The House of the Rising Sun
by The Kindly One
Summary: "How did you find me?" asked Mika. "I overheard two men talking about you," answered Yu, smiling wanly. "They called you 'The Jewel of the Quarter'." This is an AU set in turn of the century New Orleans, about its most notorious brothel, the House of the Rising Sun. For mature audiences only. Slash. Dark themes. Mika/Yu.
1. The Jewel of the Quarter

**Author's note: Hey look-it's my first time writing an AU. Hurray! I've always wanted to try one of those! Anyway, the setting for this is turn of the century New Orleans. Specifically it's about the notorious brothel from the French Quarter, The House of the Rising Sun. (I love this setting for some reason.) I won't give out too many plot details, because the set-up will become readily apparent in this first chapter. Just know that this is a multi-chap fic. and it carries a lot of warnings: Firstly, this is a slash fic., so if that isn't your cup of tea, you might want to hit the back button now. Secondly, there will be a lot of dark themes happening in this fic., such as graphic sexual situations, abuse, violence, non-con, and the like. Consider this your trigger warning for these things. But if you're still reading this after seeing these warnings, then I say-hey, I hope you enjoy my new experimental fic.! And also, please leave a review and tell me what you think of it. I appreciate any feedback! Now, onward and upwards..**

"House of the Rising Sun"

Chapter 1:

The Jewel of the Quarter

The gentle breeze that blew in from the river did little to cool off the dry simmering heat of the mid-July streets. The magnolia flowers drooped from the trees like runny egg whites, melting like cones of ice cream beneath the rays of the hot unforgiving sun. People walked the cobbled stones with a drag in their step, fanning themselves with whatever came to hand: playbills, hats, palm leaves, anything. Yu strolled along with his hands in his pockets and his head down, avoiding any and all eye contact with the people who passed by him. He was sweltering in the harsh black of his school uniform, and beads of sweat were creeping along his temples like unwanted garden slugs. He bumped into a lady holding an elaborately patterned parasol and muttered an apology under his breath. He ventured a glance up and saw a welcoming smile covering her make-up caked face. She looked like a China doll gone wrong, the summer heat having put cracks and eddies in her carefully made-up facade, the skin powdered as white as the stucco on some of the Spanish style houses in the quarter. Yu glanced away and hurried down the street, bowing his head. His posture was guilty, emitting a sense of furtiveness. He knew he shouldn't be out in the quarter. It was forbidden to him. But he had come here nonetheless.

A brass horn screeched out a warning as he darted across the road, stopping beneath a black and white sign which read Ursuline Street. He continued to walk with his head down until he came to a large townhouse outfitted with large, lacy balconies. Currently, one of the balconies was being occupied by a tall blonde woman in a white dress with ample cleavage on display. Seeing him on the sidewalk below, she leaned over the railing, showing off even more of her décolletage as she pressed herself against the bannister. "Hey, pretty boy," she cooed. "You looking for some company?"

Yu looked around him in confusion. He was currently the only one on the sidewalk so the woman must have been talking to him. With some effort, he raised his eyes, meeting her saucy, smirking gaze. He shielded his cat green eyes with a hand and yelled up at the balcony:

"Do you know where I can find Mikaela Hyakuya?"

The woman quirked an eyebrow. After a beat, she turned from the railing, yelling into a set of open French doors, "Hey Chess! Have you seen Mika?"

"Who's asking?" Another busty girl wearing a white dress with embroidered lace came out onto the balcony. She linked arms with the taller blonde woman and they both leaned like insouciant cats against the railings. The girl called Chess raised her eyebrows at Yu and turned to her companion, whispering some unheard words into her ear. Then they both burst out laughing.

Yu shifted nervously on the sidewalk below, his head swiveling left and right, on the lookout for trouble (because trouble, it seemed, followed him everywhere). When the women didn't answer him, he repeated his question. "I'm looking for Mika Hyakuya. I...I was told he might be here-"

"Oh, he's here pretty boy," interrupted the taller, blonde woman with a smirk.

Yu froze with his mouth hanging open. "Well, um, can you tell him an old friend is here to see him?"

"And would this 'old friend' happen to have a name?" Chess turned her face into the unidentified woman's arm and her shoulders shook with silent laughter as her companion continued to tease Yu with her words.

"Yu Hyakuya."

"Chess, run and tell Mika that Yu Hyakuya is here to see him." His name was spoken with such husky, salacious tones that it caused Yu to shiver in the impossibly hot summer heat. He could feel his face going red as a vined tomato as the woman continued to regard him with a silent, judgemental smirk. Then she said, her fingers teasing along the top of the railing, "Why don't you come inside? It must be terribly hot for you out there. We could make you _very_ comfortable…"

Yu swallowed and ducked his head at her invitation. "Um, no thank you. I think I'll just wait here."

The woman propped her elbows on the rails, cupping her delicate, pointed chin in her hands. "You really are a pretty boy," she cooed. Yu continued to blush under her intense, appraising gaze. There was a flurry of activity from inside the open French doors and then Chess returned, pulling a seemingly unwilling Mika by the arm. "I told you not to disturb me when-" he was saying angrily, up until the moment he spotted Yu, then the words seemed to die on his tongue.

Yu shielded his eyes and gazed up at the indescribably beautiful boy before him. Mika was simply dressed in cream linen pants and an open white button down shirt. His blond hair was all askew, sticking out in all directions like a sea anemone. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed and thrown on his clothes, but he was still quite the sight. Long moments passed as Yu just stood there with his mouth hanging open, silently drinking in the sight of Mika standing on the balcony above him. He no longer noticed the two women, their heads bent in collusion, giggling silently just behind Mika. He no longer noticed the honking cars or the random people on the streets. No, it was as if time had suddenly stopped, had simply frozen, and it was just Mika and him, alone together in the quarter. Mika-the one boy he had been searching for, for so, so long. And now he had finally found him. Unfortunately, it was at the notorious House of the Rising Sun.

It was Mika who broke the spell first. He waved a harsh, dismissive hand at the two laughing women, and they fled into the cool, welcoming darkness of the open room behind them. Mika turned and quickly closed the wide French doors, the din of their laughter fading behind the glass panes. Then he slowly turned back and approached the balcony rails. His wide blue eyes gazed down at Yu. It was a long time before either of them spoke. Finally Mika said, in a barely heard whisper, "Yu, why did you come here?"

Yu ignored the obviously critical tone in Mika's voice. "Because I had to find you. I had to, Mika. I had-"

"-you have a comfortable life, Yu," Mika interrupted him. "You should go back to it. Your family will be upset if they find out you came here-"

"-I don't care, Mika! I don't! I only have this life because...because you…" Yu trailed off helplessly, unable to finish. His hands twisted together, and his eyes dropped to the cobbled stones, his shoe kicking viciously at a loose brick. "Do you really no longer care for me?" he asked in a plaintive whisper.

The hurt in Mika's eyes was immediate. He slumped listlessly against the rails. "Oh, Yu-chan, you know that's not it. It's just…" And then it was Mika's turn to trail off, leaving so many things unsaid, unspoken. Seeing the wan smile on Yu's face, he asked, with a raised eyebrow, "Why are you smiling like that?

"Because you called me Yu-chan, just like the old days." The smile disappeared and there appeared a new, determined look on Yu's face, a fierce set to his quivering, hardened jaw. "I'm not going to leave you here, Mika," he said firmly. "Please come down. We can leave here right now, together-"

"How did you manage to find me?" Mika cut him off with a questioning look.

A humorless grin crossed Yu's face. "I overheard some men talking about you down by the river. The jewel of the quarter, they called you-"

"Mi, Mi, Mika!"

Yu watched as Mika's whole body went rigid at the sound of his name being called from the room behind him. There was a fleeting look of fear, and Mika leaned over the rails, frantically waving Yu away. "Go, Yu! You have to leave!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Not without you!"

"Go!" Mika hissed, a desperate look of terror on his face. It was enough to drive Yu back a few paces. "Please Yu," he begged. "You have to go-"

"Fine, but I'm coming back for you," Yu spat determinedly. He turned on his heel and started marching angrily down the street. After a few paces, he stopped. Then, as if being pulled by a string, he turned to look back at the balcony on which Mika was still standing.

The French doors slid open with an oily creak and a tall, older gentleman with long, silvery hair came out onto the balcony. Something about the way the man approached Mika, the slow, predatory step to his gait, sent aberrant hairs standing straight up on the back of Yu's sweat soaked neck. A cold clammy chill, one that had nothing to do with the weather or the sweaty state of his own overheated body, crept along his spine with bony, skeletal fingers, setting every nerve in his body on high alert. Yu watched as the man and Mika exchanged unheard but obviously heated words, then the man reached out and grabbed Mika by the arm, pulling him back into the yawning darkness of the open room. Yu clenched his fists and felt the tiny vein on the outside of his temple begin to throb, beating out thumping spasms in time with his own pounding heart. He gritted his teeth and stomped off down the street, heading in the direction of the St. Charles Avenue trolley. His immediate hatred of the unknown man had set his teeth to grinding, shifting in time with his every step. He knew what he had to do. He had to get Mika out of there. He knew what he had to do, he just needed to do it.

He would be back...


	2. Two Different Worlds

**Author's note: I'm going to restate the trigger warning here, as there is some pretty heavy violence in the latter part of this chapter. So consider yourself warned. Also, this fic. is unbeta'd, so if you see something glaringly wrong, please let me know. Thanks. :)**

Chapter 2:

Two Different Worlds

The St. Charles streetcar rocked gently from side to side like a fussy baby in a large wooden cradle. Its bell clanged loudly as it neared the stop for the opulent neighborhood of First Street in New Orleans' Garden District. Yu hopped down, the only rider to disembark, as a few other people (obviously dressed in service uniforms) climbed on. Yu walked hurriedly, head bowed and grumbling to himself, passing by one majestic Greek revival style mansion after another, each one ornately outfitted with wide, picturesque galleries corralled by towering oak trees and wrought iron fences etched with elegant scrollwork. A hot balmy breeze blew through the streets, disturbing the vivid violet flowers of the bordering crepe myrtle trees, their heavy branches undulating and swaying like pieces of seaweed caught in high tide. Yu entered a gate decorated with rows of wrought iron swords, walking through a courtyard draped with hanging Spanish moss. He rounded an intimidating fountain filled with lovely statuary; four Seraphs were posed at its center, each blowing a heavy golden trumpet spewing graceful arcs of water. Yu, oblivious to all the beautiful sights around him, continued to glare at the ground and mutter unhappily to himself. Until a voice called out to him from the gallery:

"Hey, snot nose!"

Yu's head snapped up and he looked over at the vine-laced piazza. Sitting around a table in white wicker chairs were his guardian, Ichonese Guren, and his two other wards, Kimizuki and Yoichi. Upon seeing Yu, Yoichi waved enthusiastically, calling him over, "Welcome home, Yu! Come up here, I saved you some spice cake from dinner."

Yu bounded up a wide white staircase, his heels clicking smartly as he made his way across the gallery floor. He took the remaining empty seat between Kimizuki and Yoichi, slumping sulkily in his chair. Kimizuki, as usual, had a serious, almost frowning expression on his face, while Yoichi was all bright smiles and cheery demeanor. Yoichi pushed a plate with a blue leafy pattern on it towards Yu. "Kimizuki said not to save you any because he thought that's what you should get for being late, but I kept this for you." Yu's stomach growled greedily at the sight of the cake, and realizing that he hadn't eaten for hours, he picked up the entire piece with his hand and bit into it, even as Kimizuki quirked an eyebrow at him in silent disapproval. Yu didn't care.

"So, snot-nose, why are you late anyway?" asked Guren.

Yu paused with the slice of cake poised in front of his mouth. "I'm sorry. I stayed late at the library to study, but when I tried to get home, the St. Charles line was down, so I had to take the long way around." Yu repeated his rehearsed lie perfectly.

"Tch."

Yu's head snapped toward Kimizuki. "Hey, you got some kind of problem with me?"

Kimizuki crossed his arms over his chest. "Problem? Oh, I'm not the one with the 'problem' here."

Yu's eyebrows creased together suspiciously. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, I don't know, you tell me," prodded Kimizuki mysteriously.

Yu dropped his cake onto his plate. "You have something you want to say to me, Kimizuki?"

"As a matter of fact, I-"

"Guys, guys!" interrupted Yoichi, holding up two placating hands. "Let's not fight, okay? We're supposed to be a family."

"Yoichi's right," said Guren, eyeing Yu over a raised glass of cold Scotch (his favored drink). "We're all family here, so let's act like it and try to have a peaceful evening at home for once." It was a pleading statement which lead one to believe that evenings at Guren's house were rarely ever peaceful.

Yu resumed eating, sloppily pushing the last bite of cake into his waiting mouth. "Thanks for this, Yoichi," Yu mumbled appreciatively around his half chewed food. "Now that I'm done, I think I'm going to go up." Yu slid back his chair and beat a hasty retreat across the gallery.

"I'm going up, too," said Kimizuki from behind him. Yu opened the front door and headed for a tall, winding staircase. Feeling a pair of eyes burrowing through the back of his skull, he swivelled around to confront Kimizuki.

"Why are you following me?"

"I saw you today," said Kimizuki, without preamble.

Swallowing, Yu turned his back on him and went up a few steps. "Saw me? Where? At school? You see me there every day-"

"I saw you in the quarter," said Kimizuki, pushing his glasses up his nose. Somehow the innocent gesture seemed accusing. "On Ursiline Street," he clarified.

Yu froze on the landing. Composing his face into what he hoped was a relaxed, nonchalant look, he turned back to Kimizuki and said, "Obviously you were mistaken."

"No."

"Yes."

"No, I wasn't. I saw you." Kimizuki came up to the landing, his superior height allowing him to tower over Yu. "You know you're not supposed to go near the quarter. And to Storyville, of all places. It's embarrassing. Disgraceful." Kimizuki jabbed a finger at Yu's chest. "We're supposed to be a family. But obviously some of us prefer to lie and sneak around-"

"I was not 'sneaking around'!" Yu pushed Kimizuki's jabbing finger away and turned and fled up the stairs.

"Fine. Keep lying about it. But I'm watching you." Yu froze again as he heard Kimizuki's retreating footsteps stomping angrily down the staircase. A few seconds passed and another set of steps came echoing onto the landing. Steeling himself for another confrontation, Yu span around.

"What? What do you want now?" he practically shouted.

He immediately regretted it as he saw Yoichi's face crumple with undisguised hurt. "I'm-I'm sorry," he stammered, backing away. "I just thought-"

"No, I'm sorry Yoichi," Yu apologized in a much softer tone. "I thought you were Kimizuki, coming to give me more grief."

"He's just worried about you, Yu," Yoichi explained quietly. "So am I." Yu's eyes widened slightly at that admission. It obviously wasn't just Kimizuki who saw him in the quarter today.

"Is there something I can help you with?" asked Yoichi, his probing eyes full of sympathy. Yoichi was easily the most empathetic person he had ever met.

Yu shook his head. "No, I don't think so," Yu muttered regretfully. Then he turned and continued up the stairs.

"Are you sure?" Yoichi pressed.

"I'm sure." Yu suddenly paused, his foot freezing on the final step. Yoichi watched his back as he remained as still as one of the fountain's marble seraphs. Then he slowly turned and came back down to the landing, a determined, decisive look on his face.

"You know what? There _is_ something you can do…"

* * *

Long, tapered candles cast a golden halo over a small card table that was set with the remains of a sumptuous meal. Through the gauzy curtains on a pair of large French double doors, the sun could be seen melting away like a ball of orange marzipan left baking on a hot metal tray. The room was filled with golden light: it shone over a carved antique fireplace, a large four poster bed with hanging curtains, an oak rolltop desk with curving legs. Two men sat on either side of the table. One was tall and distinguished looking with long silver hair tied in a satin ribbon, the other was smaller and younger and had feathery blond hair and large soulful eyes the color of a summer sky. A tense silence competed with the soothingly lit atmosphere of the room. Long moments passed before the blond boy, called Mika, finally said, "More wine, Lord Ferid?"

"Of course." Lord Ferid watched the boy's movements with the interest of a vulture watching carrion on the ground. To Mika's credit, he did not flinch underneath the nobleman's parsing gaze, instead he schooled his features into a relaxed, slightly bored expression, the one he always wore in situations like this. Candlelight bounced off the cut crystal decanter he held, refracting light like a million tiny diamonds as Mika poured, his eyes never once looking at the other man's face.

"So, my little lamb. Are you going to tell me who that was that interrupted us earlier today?" The question posed seemed innocent but Mika knew that it was not. He carefully placed the wine back on the table, revealing not so much as an inkling of emotion as he met Ferid's appraising eyes.

"I told you. It was no one. Just another peddler who didn't know better enough to call at the back door."

"Liar."

Without warning, Ferid grabbed Mika's wrist, holding it firmly against the table. With his other hand he picked up one of the wax tapers, and without any word or indication as to what he was doing, he upended the lit flame right on top of Mika's hand.

Mika screamed in pain and jumped up from the table. The unexpected move completely broke his composure. He staggered back into the mantle, knocking a vase from its perch above the fireplace. It crashed with a musical, tinkling sound onto the floorboards, the noise blending with Mika's own agonized whimpers in a broken sonata of violence and pain. With slow, careful movements, Ferid rose from the table. He stalked over to Mika with a calculated, menacing gait, causing Mika to turn and retreat to the other side of the room. With lightning quickness, Ferid reached out and snagged Mika by the hair, causing him to cry out anew. He flung him toward the four poster bed with a dismissive, disgusted gesture. Mika fell against the bed and scrambled back onto the coverlet, his eyes darting around for a means of escape like those of a trapped, desperate animal.

"You're such a bad liar, Mika-chan. Always were, always have been." As Ferid crept toward him, Mika could see the room's outer door wrench ajar a few inches, revealing a wide, inquisitive eye. Mika pleaded silently with this eye for help. But his distraction only served to make things worse, as Ferid used it as an opening to pounce. The nobleman went to his velvet riding cloak that was folded neatly over the back of an antique chair. He pulled out a long black crop from its interior and stalked back over to the bed. Sensing his intention a breath too late, Mika scrambled away across the rose patterned coverlet. Ferid grabbed him by the ankle and wrenched him back, raising the riding crop high above his head. It came down with a thunderous _Crack!_ as Mika continued to struggle. He didn't cry out as the crop came down again and again, the rapport as loud as gunfire in the small space of the bedroom. Mika's lack of reaction only seemed to enrage the nobleman even more and he began to yell, spitting out his words:

"You filthy, no good whore!" _Crack! "_ How dare you lie to me!" _Crack!_ "How dare you! I better not catch you with another man outside this establishment!" _Crack!_ "You're mine!" _Crack!_ "You hear me!" _Crack!_ "Mine!" _Crack!Crack!Crack!_

 _God help me, Yu-chan,_ thought Mika as he gritted his teeth silently through the assault. _I think he might actually kill me this time._ Tears welled in his eyes, heavy with pain and regret. Mostly regret. Mika thought of Yu, of the way his face had looked earlier that day out on the sidewalk. Beautiful, pleading, yearning. _Yu-chan,_ he thought. _I should have went with you. Right then and there. But now I may never see you again-_

 _BANG! BANG! BANG!_ A loud knocking intruded from the direction of the bedroom door. Then a woman's authoritative voice rang out: "Lord Ferrid! I must ask you to desist with whatever it is you're doing in there. Mika is valuable property to me, and I don't like my property damaged."

Mika heard rather than saw the riding crop drop to the floor. He was too frightened to turn around. He silently thanked God for Krul's timely interruption and for whoever it was that had brought her. He lay, trembling on the coverlet, as the madam of the House of the Rising Sun entered the room. Mika risked a glance back. Krul was standing with a hand on her hip, her small, diminutive frame deceptively calm and oblique. After a few seconds she spoke:

"Lord Ferid, you know I can't have you damaging my darling Mika. He's my favorite dog. And my most profitable."

Mika could feel the sneer in Ferid's voice. "Ah, Queen Krul Tepes," said Ferid, emphasizing every syllable in Krul's favored nickname in the quarter. "Do you always make it a policy to barge in on paying customers?"

"When those customers are a detriment to business, yes," Krul stated flatly.

"But as you can see," gestured Ferid with a flourishing hand, "I've left Mika's lovely face completely unharmed."

"I require more than just his face," answered Krul.

Ferid stopped and smoothed his hair back into place. He reached over, and with one graceful movement, he snagged his cloak from the back of the chair. There was a smirk on his face as he slowly, with exaggerated movements, made his way to the door. He stopped in front of Krul.

"You know, I have enough money to buy this whole place. I could do that. And put you out on the street." Krul didn't react at all to the whispered threat. She merely said, with obvious steel in her voice:

"Try it and see."

Mika heard Ferid's footsteps retreating down the hallway. With a whimper, he pushed himself up to a seated position. The blood on the coverlet was almost indistinguishable from the red rose pattern that was woven into the blanket. A searing heat ran through Mika's backside like a brush fire, causing every nerve to howl in fathomless pain. Krul regarded him emotionlessly. "Mika, why do you have to provoke him so? You know how temperamental he is."

Mika hung his head, wincing. "I'm sorry, Krul," he answered. He accepted, as always, the blame for whatever it was that happened between him and Lord Ferid. He did it instantly and without thinking. It was always his fault. _Always._

Krul just nodded. "That's a good dog," she said, turning to leave. She paused, spinning back around, and Mika thought that maybe for once, just once, that Krul was going to say that it wasn't his fault, that she felt sorry for him. But all she said was:

"And remind me to charge Lord Ferrid for that broken vase." She motioned towards the fireplace and without further word, she turned and stalked out. Mika's head dropped hopelessly onto the coverlet. He was too sore to move. His hands clutched at the flattened rose petals, and he whispered a single name like a prayer, just underneath his breath, to the empty room:

"Yu-chan…"


	3. Reunion of Lost Souls

**Author's note: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, or put this story on alert. It means a lot, and it reinforces my motivation to write better and faster. So thanks, and please enjoy this chapter! :)**

Chapter 3:

Reunion of Lost Souls

The day dawned bright and balmy over the ramparts inside the French Quarter. The sky went from dusky gray, to egg yolk yellow, to fiery orange before it finally settled into a perfect, seamless cerulean blue. It was early but the cobblestones were already warm to the touch, promising yet another excruciatingly hot summer day. Horses listlessly pulled carriages stacked high with morning deliveries through the narrow streets, making their way along with molasses like slowness, even as the random electric car honked and shimmied its way recklessly around them. Mika watched this flurry of activity through half mast eyes from his balcony high above, perched on the edge of a cushioned metal seat, the welts on his back and bottom making it impossible for him to lean back with any comfort. He sipped coffee with chicory from a small round china cup at a tiny bistro table. There was a cinnamon bun, too, but it remained untouched on its matching plate. Rene had brought the coffee and bun to him earlier that morning, setting it down at the table with a look of extreme pity in his eyes, before walking away silently. Mika knew he only did it because he felt sorry for him. By now, news of what had transpired last night would be all over the house. Such gossip, like an airborne disease, spread quickly and efficiently, as was often the case in such hot, inhospitable climates.

"Oh, Mika!"

Mika's head swiveled in the direction of the open French doors. Leaning against the door jamb with his arms crossed casually across his chest was Crowley, looking cool and unaffected in a pristine white suit with vest and collar. His hat sat perched on top of his head at a rakish angle and there was a mischievous, secretive grin on his handsome face. Mika waited for him to speak. When he said nothing, Mika finally took the bait.

"What do you want, Crowley?" asked Mika with obvious irritation in his voice.

Crowley kicked off from the door. He pulled out the chair opposite from Mika, saying, "May I?" and then sat down before Mika even had a chance to reply. Mika regarded him with narrow, guarded eyes.

"Hey, are you going to eat that?" asked Crowley, spotting the forgotten cinnamon roll on its plate. Mika gestured tiredly for him to take it. Smiling, Crowley picked up the bun and took a hardy bite. Anyone viewing them from below would have thought that these were just two friends sharing a quiet morning together. Only they weren't friends. Colleagues, perhaps, in the loosest sense, but certainly not friends.

"What do you want, Crowley?" Mika repeated, forcing a bored, disinterested tone into his voice. He knew the types of mind games that Crowley liked to play, and it would only egg him on if Mika showed too much interest in his unexpected appearance. Mika turned his head and stared off over the rooftops, at a skyline filled with colorful flat tiled roofs and the random, jutting cathedral spire. Crowley continued to chew his food unhurriedly. Mika waited in silence. Finally Crowley put the half eaten bun back on the plate and remarked, casually, "Something happen to your hand?" He nodded toward Mika's wounded hand, covered and pinned in gauze, resting on the the edge of the table.

Mika continued to look bored. "Nothing. Why? Are you concerned for me Crowley?"

Crowley laughed in response. "Oh, Mika-I wouldn't be you for all the money in the world!" Mika's expression turned frosty. Crowley then reached inside his coat and pulled out a tiny cream envelope. "You know, I seriously think you have a death wish." Crowley held the envelope across the table, holding it up between his second and third finger.

"What's that?"

"A message. For you. An embarrassed little cherub in a school uniform brought it to the back gate this very morning." Crowley smiled as Mika's eyes widened slightly at this last sentence. Predictably, when Mika went to take the envelope, Crowley pulled it away.

"Not so fast."

Mika, temporarily forgetting his wounds, leaned back in his chair with a huff. He winced as his back made contact. Crowley just shook his head. Finally Mika said, "What do you want?"

Crowley rubbed his chin thoughtfully and pretended to think. "Hmm, how about that expensive silver fob watch Lord Ferid gave you, for a start? It's worth a pretty penny, no?"

Without hesitation, Mika drew out the pocket watch and tossed it over the table at Crowley. It landed with a steely _clink!_ The chain, also pure silver, trailed off the side of the table like a fallen caterpillar, the links flashing as it swung lazily beneath the morning sun.

Crowley admired the silver inlay briefly before pocketing it. He then held out the envelope, but didn't release it even though he let Mika lay hands on it. Mika glared at him from across the table. "Now what?" Mika asked through gritted teeth.

"The watch will do fine for the message, but what payment will you give me for keeping quiet about it?" said Crowley with an arched eyebrow. "I assume you wouldn't want me to just slip up and mention that any of this happened? To certain interested parties?"

Mika glared and Crowley smirked. "Name your price," said Mika coldly.

"Half of your month's earnings?"

"Done." Crowley released the envelope and Mika pocketed it without word. Crowley sighed and stood up, stretching like a lazy cat. "I don't know why you're being so cold to me, Mika. Not when I've only been nothing but nice to you."

"You think you're being nice?"

Crowley blinked innocently. "Well, yes. I wasn't rude at all. Didn't even mention the fact that I could smell half a bottle of whisky in that coffee you're drinking. A true gentleman. That's me." Crowley pivoted on his heel and left the balcony, disappearing through the door of Mika's room. Mika breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the outer door click shut. Only when he was sure he was alone did he take out the tiny envelope and open it. It read simply:

 _Meet me at the Cafe du Monde at 4:00. Y._

Mika allowed a small smile to adorn his normally bored looking face. "Maybe I do have a death wish," he muttered to himself before placing the message carefully back in his coat pocket.

* * *

The French Market was alive and bustling with mid-day activity. Baskets of rainbow colored fruit, as bright and as tempting as a cornucopia of candy, were being hauled to and from the stalls from the back of a horse drawn wagon. The rug sellers had their wares out on display, the patterns as bright and as beautiful as the exotic plumes of a south island bird. There were candy sellers and furniture sellers and vegetable stands and butchers. Dogs barked at pigeons and kids chased balls down the sidewalk. Bells clanged and newspaper sellers hawked their pages. Yu hardly noticed any of it, as he was too busy racing down Decateur Steet at a breakneck pace. An older gentleman in a bowler hat yelled, "Watch where you're going young man!" as Yu careened around him, narrowly missing him. He yelled out an apology without stopping. He had his sights set on a familiar sloping roof. He didn't stop running until he was standing right in front of it.

Sweating profusely in his school uniform, Yu entered the Cafe du Monde. He walked through the outside seating area, his head swinging back and forth like a weather vane, searching for Mika's face. Not finding him outside, he entered the cafe proper. There he found Mika seated at a table in a far corner, a pale star dressed in a flattering dove gray suit with matching leather gloves, his incandescent looks standing out amongst all the dark, drab colors worn by the other patrons around him. A cup of cafe au lait and a plate with a half eaten beignet sat in front of him. Yu breathed a sigh of relief and approached the table. He couldn't prevent the lump in his throat from forming as Mika's sky blue eyes turned up to meet his. Those eyes pierced his soul, holding him in place, and Yu was happy to remain captive there under Mika's arresting gaze. Smiling stupidly, he simply stood by the table without saying a word.

Finally Mika prodded him. "Well, aren't you going to sit down?"

"I was so afraid that I had missed you, because school ran late today and it took so long to get here. I ran all the way down Decateur," Yu blurted foolishly. Realizing how awkward he looked just standing there, he finally took the seat across from Mika, staring down at the cafe menu without actually seeing it. "I was so afraid that you just...wouldn't turn up at all. After what happened yesterday."

"I'm here. Even though I probably shouldn't be."

"Why do you say that?"

Mika tilted his head to the side, considering. "Because it's not prudent for you to be seen out in public with the likes of me."

"I don't care what other people think."

"You should. I know your guardian, Guren-he would care. And the Hiragi family he works for. They would care."

Yu's brows knitted together suspiciously. "How do you know about them?"

"I know everything about you. I've never stopped keeping tabs on you-"

Yu's eyes softened, melting like a bank of sun-drenched snow at this admission. "Mika," he whispered. He reached across the table to take Mika's hand. Yu was surprised when Mika hissed and pulled it away. He watched the blond boy fold his hands into his lap, a pained expression on his face. Yu's eyes dropped to the floor in rejection.

"Anyway, I don't care what all those so-called respectable people think," asserted Yu.

A sharp, bitter laugh brought Yu's eyes back up. "I never said they were _respectable_ Yu," said Mika. "I only said they would care if you were seen in public with me. They care about appearances. That's all. It's not the same. Like when I told you to leave yesterday. You don't want to be seen out in broad daylight in Storyville, ever. You're far too naive about the way the world works-"

"I'm not naive, Mika," interrupted Yu. "I know you think I am, but I'm not. I know-" And here Yu choked up, the words coming out in a tortured whisper: "I grew up in the quarter with you. I know Ichonese Guren didn't just one day magically decide to take me out of there and make me his ward. It was you. It had to be you. You made it happen-"

"-stop, Yu-"

"-No, let me say it," Yu continued, his voice climbing. "It kills me to know what you must have sacrificed for me to get out of there. It tortures me. I don't want you to have to live that kind of life, not for me, not for anyone-"

"Yu, lower your voice."

"I won't let you do this, Mika! Not anymore!"

Yu was shocked when Mika's hand suddenly reached out and grasped his own. Jade eyes met sapphire across the table. Then Mika said in a low, trembling voice, "I'd do it all over again. If it meant that you were safe. That you were happy…"

"I can't be happy…" And here Yu started to add _without you_ , but instead what he said was, "Not knowing you're still in that awful place-" Yu abruptly stopped speaking as he noticed a growing shadow falling across their table. He looked up to see a middle-aged man in a dark pinstripe suit with a large mustache looming over them, his eyes firmly latched on Mika. Yu watched in disbelief as the man took a small card from inside his jacket pocket and handed it to Mika. "May I call?" was all he said, without greeting or introduction.

Mika took the card from him without hardly a glance, and tucked it inside his vest. "Of course," he said smoothly.

"Tonight?"

"No, not tonight. Next week. Check with the House." The man nodded once then glance over at Yu. His unmistakably appraising gaze made Yu shrink back in his chair. The man with the moustache addressed Mika but continued to stare at Yu. "And what about him?"

"Not what you're looking for," assured Mika. The man merely nodded again and left. Yu felt his anger begin to rise.

"How can you-" he started to say, but stopped.

"How can I what?" asked Mika, tilting his head innocently to the side and looking at Yu in a manner he found infuriating. Yu shook his head and said, through gritted teeth, "This is going to stop, right now-"

"Is it? How?" snapped Mika, a sudden bitterness overtaking his voice. "Just how are you going to stop it, Yu? What do you propose to do? Get Guren to take on another ward? Well, I'm damaged goods, so that's _definitely_ not going to happen-"

"I'll find a way."

"No, you won't." Mika's chair screeched in protest as he slid it back from the table and stood up. "This was a mistake, me coming here," he said with sudden regret in his voice.

"No, Mika. Sit down."

Mika shook his head, backing away. "I'm going."

Yu jumped up from the table. He followed Mika out the cafe door, pursuing him down the small lane which ran behind the French Market, down by the river. The area was far less crowded than Decateur Street. "Mika, wait!" Yu called helplessly. He followed the other boy behind a low stone wall, the horns of river steamers trumpeting like elephants from the nearby Mississippi River, the sound bouncing loudly off the jagged bricks. Yu lunged forward, finally catching up with the other boy. He grabbed his arm and swung him around so they were both facing each other.

"Why are you running away like this?" asked Yu.

"Because I'm no good for you," hissed Mika, his eyes pleading. "I'm tainted. And if you continue to spend time with me, you'll be tainted, too. Your reputation will be shot to hell-"

"-I don't care about my stupid reputation!" raved Yu. He reached out and grabbed Mika by both arms. "I told you. I don't care about any of that. All I care about is you!"

Mika went stark still in Yu's grip, his face as unreadable as a sphinx. Yu suddenly realized how tight he was holding him, how near they were to each other. Yu hadn't seen Mika's face this close up in well over four years. He was shocked by how beautiful he had become in his absence, the intense blue eyes and elegant planes of his face completely mesmerizing in the late afternoon light. Yu's gaze dropped from Mika's eyes to his lips. They were slightly parted and trembling. "Yu-chan," those lips exhaled his name, low and pleading. Yu felt himself moving forward without thinking, until he could feel Mika's ragged breath on his face. It was as if he were standing on the edge of an impossibly high cliff, balanced on the precipice of some wonderful new discovery, something that was thrilling and elusive and heretofore unknown to him. "Yu-chan, please," Mika repeated, his lips trembling against Yu's cheek. One slight move and their mouths would meet.

"Yoo-hoo! Yuuuu!" sang a woman's high, intrusive voice. Startled, Yu looked up to see Shinoa Hiragi racing towards him, hand held high and waving frantically. Without greeting or introduction, she walked right up to Yu and Mika and said in a low, conspiratorial whisper, "My half brother is right behind me so you may want to take this opportunity to distance yourself." Her violet eyes were on Mika as she said this.

"Of course," said Mika, nodding in understanding. Yu watched him turn on his heel and walk around to the wall's other side. "Wait, Mika!" Yu called out in protest. He suddenly felt Shinoa's finger stopping his lips. "Shhh. Here he comes," she warned. Composing herself, she spun around, producing a bright, cheery smile and clasping her hands behind her back.

"Look who's here, Kureto-san! It's Yuichiro Hyakuya! Surely you remember him?" An imposing looking man with short black hair in a dark military style suit approached them. Cold, dead eyes raked over Yu's form, and Yu felt himself shiver involuntarily, despite the day's stifling heat. "Yes, I remember, " answered Kureto tersely. "You're Ichonese Guren's ward."

"That's right, sir."

"And how are things at school? Your studies are going well, I presume?"

"Very well."

"I'm glad to hear it. The Hiragi family's private academy wishes only to turn out the finest and most educated young gentlemen in all of New Orleans."

"Of course."

Shinoa opened her parasol and twirled it flirtatiously. "It was so nice to see you again, Yu-san, but I'm afraid my brother and I really must be going!" With that, she linked her arm with her unhappy looking older brother's and steered him away towards the Mississippi, mouthing the words, "Be careful," over her shoulder as she went. Yu watched as the two of them continued to stroll lazily along the riverbank, not daring to move from his spot until they were well out of sight. Then, as if remembering something important, he flailed and took off behind the wall.

"Mika!" Yu yelled and screeched to a halt as he nearly barreled into the object of his search. Mika was leaning casually and quietly against the rough bricks, his profile as white and elusive as that of a Greek statue. A small smile quirked his lips. "What? You thought I'd gone?"

Yu exhaled a relieved breath. "Yes."

Mika's posture relaxed and he tilted his head back against the stone wall in open invitation. His pupils were as dark and as round as whetstones and he regarded Yu with a look which grabbed him and twisted him somewhere deep down inside in a way that he had never felt before. "I waited for you," was all Mika said. It was all he got to say, before Yu lunged forward and grabbed him and kissed him. He continued to kiss him until one, then two, then three more steamers passed lazily by them, blaring their horns, and by then they were both completely out of breath and forced by necessity to come up for air. Yu pressed his forehead against Mika's and said in a drugged whisper, "I've been wanting to do that ever since I saw you on that balcony yesterday." Mika smiled at the comment and nodded dumbly in response, then said, regretfully, "It's almost five, Yu-chan. I have to go."

Yu refused to release him. "Meet me again tomorrow?" he asked in a voice grown thick and scratchy with desire. He clung to Mika. Mika merely nodded again, saying, "I'll try to get away."

"Will you meet me at the Garden Book Shop, again at 4:00?"

Yu felt Mika stiffen in his embrace. "That's in the Garden District," he pointed out nervously.

"Yes." Yu's eyes dared him to refuse.

A moment which seemed longer than an eternity to Yu passed by, then Mika finally said:

"Yes."


	4. The Inescapable Past

**Author's Note: The second half of this chapter carries a trigger warning for violence, non-con, sex, abuse, basically the whole lot. Read at your own discretion.**

Chapter 4:

The Inescapable Past

Dew drops glistened and fell, dripping off the pale blooms of the magnolia flowers like trails of forgotten tears. An orange marmalade sun was cresting just over the horizon and a cardinal's song could be heard hanging in the trees, heralding the new dawn. The fountain of the four seraphs gurgled soothingly beneath the retreating mists, it's dulcet tones unable to completely drown out the ferocious clash of steel on steel that was coming from nearby. On the long circular gallery of Guren's mansion, two figures could be seen clashing and parrying, dodging and lunging, deftly moving like a pair of experienced dancers across the floorboards. The song of metal-on-metal echoed throughout the piazza, cutting through the otherwise banal sounds of a normal morning. But for those who lived life at Guren's house, this _was_ what passed for normal.

"What's wrong, snot nose? You seem a little off your game this morning," said Guren, surging forward with his rapier for yet another pass. The move forced Yu back across the gallery a few paces. Steel screeched its wailing hawk's cry as their blades connected and crossed. Guren reached forward and snagged Yu by the wrist, hurling him around in a circle in a parody of a barnyard reel. Yu, caught off guard, barely managed to keep himself from being thrown into a wall. He recovered just in time to parry another attack.

"You're not concentrating," criticized Guren. Yu didn't answer because any denial coming from him would be false. He usually enjoyed his and Guren's early morning sparring sessions, but today his concentration was totally wrecked. His mind was elsewhere. Namely, on a beautiful blue eyed boy from the quarter and the kiss that they shared yesterday.

" _Yu-chan…"_

Yu ducked an incoming blow, backing up against the rails. He flailed out of the way at the last minute as Guren sought to trap him. Guren's eyes glinted maniacally and there was a condescending smirk on his face, "Are we just going to dance like this all day or are we going to fight?" Yu reverted to his usual fighting stance and his eyebrows knitted together in one last bid for concentration. He lunged forward and the intensity of his attack pushed Guren back toward the rails.

"Better," noted Guren, his arm swinging to and fro as their two blades met, kissed, then parted again. Metal sang as their two rapiers scraped alongside each other, with Yu digging in his heels and refusing to give ground. He glared at Guren over the top of his blade. He thought he was getting somewhere when he suddenly felt his legs swept out from under him.

"Ow!" Yu hit the floor with a heavy thud and his sword fell and clattered across the boards. "That was a dirty trick," Yu complained petulantly, pushing himself up to a sitting position with his hands.

"No more than what you deserve," said Guren darkly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Guren pulled out the same wicker chair he'd been sitting in two days ago and he waved Yu over to the opposite seat. "You and I need to have a serious talk."

Yu was instantly put on guard by the unusual tone in Guren's voice. He approached the chair warily and sat down. "What's this about?"

Guren didn't dance around the subject. "I received a concerning message yesterday evening from Kureto Hiragi. He said he saw you behind the French Market with a person of-how shall I say it-ill gained reputation?" Guren's eyes burrowed into Yu's and Yu felt himself go as still as one of the fountain's marble statues. He was not expecting the accusation and he could not find fast enough words to repudiate Hiragi's claims. When he didn't answer right away, Guren shook his head in disappointment and said, "Jesus, Yu, I know I constantly rib you about being a cherry boy, but did you have to take it so far?"

"That's not what happened!"

"Oh? Then what did happen?"

Yu's grip on the arms of his chair was white knuckle tight. When he failed to answer again, Guren continued to harangue him, saying, "I didn't take you out of the gutter and raise you just so you could go flying right back into it. You're my ward. People have certain expectations when it comes to your behavior-"

"-but I haven't done anything wrong!"

"Didn't do anything wrong?" Guren practically yelled. Over his shoulder, Yu could see Yoichi's concerned face staring at him through one of the parlor windows. "You were seen in the middle of the market in the company of a French Quarter prostitute by Kureto Hiragi and you think you've done nothing wrong? Where is your sense of propriety? Have I failed so completely in teaching you how to conduct yourself-"

"I'm sorry," was all Yu could say, his eyes on the floor.

Guren raked his hands back through his hair in an irritated gesture. "No, I'm sorry. I've obviously failed you in some fundamental way-"

"-no, you haven't-"

"I guess one's past is truly inescapable after all. I'm sorry, Yu." Moments of tortuous silence ticked by, interrupted only by the babbling noise from the fountain and early morning birdsong. Yu hung his head. Guren stood up.

"It goes without saying that I wish to never have to discuss this topic again. I'll also ask that for the time being you try and restrict your movements to the Garden District. Go past Canal Street and you've gone too far. Stay away from the quarter." With this last order, Guren turned on his heel, marching stiffly across the gallery floor. He froze after a few steps. His profile turned slightly. "Yu?"

"Yes, sir," Yu answered in a clipped voice. "I won't go out of the district."

Guren nodded. "Good." He continued along the gallery until he vanished. Yu heard the outside door open and slam shut. He tried not to feel too guilty over his response. Because his answer had, in fact, been a truthful one.

But only because he wasn't meeting Mika outside the district. He was meeting him _in_ _it_.

* * *

Mika bounded down the house's back spiral staircase with a spring in his step and the ghost of a grin playing at his typically unsmiling lips. He'd spent an extra amount of time choosing his outfit for this afternoon, surprising himself with the ridiculous level of thought he'd put into it. Usually he didn't care about such things, but today he'd been highly critical of himself, turning this way and that in the mirror, checking himself from every angle. He knew it was because he was going to the Garden District, to the place where all the rich and fashionable people of New Orleans spent their time, and he wanted to blend in and look the part for Yu. _Especially_ for Yu. He knew it was just a silly, juvenile notion, but he found that he really did care what Yu thought about him. He wanted to be worthy of someone of Yu's stature-namely, that of a Garden District boy with a pristine past and a bright future ahead of him. He didn't want to appear sloppy or trashy or embarrassing in any sort of way. Or, as he heard Crowley once put it, "like a cheap Picayune whore."

Mika left the stairwell and entered an empty brick courtyard, a verdant, oasis-like place filled with leafy green ferns and bright azalea flowers arranged around a simple white marble fountain. From there he entered a tiny passageway that led to the house's back kitchen, intending to exit by the rear gate. He walked through a dark narrow landing and emerged by the kitchen's outbuilding and its accompanying cellars, the area housed, as was custom during the the previous century, in a separate, smaller building. The moment he set foot out of the passage and the sunlight hit his face, an unexpected hand reached out and grabbed him, pulling him in the direction of the tiny, brick outbuilding.

"Headed for a secret rendezvous, are we?" asked Ferid Bathory in an oily whisper. Mika, caught off guard, blinked dumbly as Ferid attempted to steer him towards the kitchen's cellar. "What's wrong, darling, cat got your tongue? One with bright green eyes, perhaps?" Mika turned and pounded at the hand gripping his wrist, attempting to free himself.

"Why are you following me?"

"Following you? Oh, I'm not following you. I have other people for that." With both hands, Ferid grabbed Mika by the collar and shoved him into the cellar. Then he nimbly stepped across the threshold and slammed the door shut behind him. The whole world went threateningly, uncomfortably dark. As Mika's eyes adjusted to the lack of light, he could see Ferid's tall, intimidating frame faintly outlined by the weak sun that was filtering in from a tiny, dirty window over the door. Mika took a hesitant step back as Ferid advanced forward, his words cutting through the dark in a poison filled hiss:

"So, my little seraph-where are you meeting our dear Yuichiro today? At the Cafe du Monde again? Or perhaps somewhere different this time?"

Mika felt his anger spark at the mention of Yu's name. "It's none of your goddam business!"

Ferid stopped moving. "My, my, what a mouth! Feeling fiery today, are we?" Mika glared at him through the semi-darkness. Like a coiled snake, Ferid struck out with lightning quickness, viciously snagging him by his mop of curly hair. Mika clawed at his fingers, cursing.

"Damn you! Let go of me!" Mika's eyes widened as Ferid bent down and whispered in his ear, his breath a hot desert wind on the side of his face. "I don't think so, little one. I told you before and I'll tell you again: I won't share my playground with anyone outside the walls of this house. So you can give up this little infatuation with Yuichiro Hyakuya-"

"-No!" Mika clawed at the front of Ferid's jacket, and there was an ugly ripping sound in the dark. Mika felt a short lived sense of relief as Ferid's hands temporarily withdrew from him. "Oh dear," said Ferid with mock concern. "I think you just ruined my favorite tie."

 _CRACK!_ The slap that Ferid delivered across Mika's face came as an unexpected shock, causing him to stagger back into a bin of canned preserves. The wooden crate toppled and fell, the jars rolling unseen across the cool, packed dirt floor. Mika slumped to his knees. He only got back on his feet again because Ferid's hands around his throat were forcing him to stand.

"You scheming little bitch," sneered Ferid, his hands squeezing with intentional violence. "You think you can defy me-"

"-let go of me, you bastard-"

"-and play around behind my back. I own you! You're bought and paid for-"

"-I hate you. You fucking bastard! I fucking HATE you-"

"-what do you think your darling Yuichiro would say if he knew I'd gotten there before him? Huh? Do you think he'd still want you? You piece of gutter trash-"

"-you've ruined my life! You've ruined me! I wish you'd burn in hell-"

"-you sorry little bitch!"

Ferid abruptly released him and Mika crumpled to the ground, gasping for air. He curled onto his side, coughing like a TB patient, tears stinging his eyes. "You bastard," he choked in a hoarse whisper. "Why did you have to ruin my life?"

"Because that's the deal we made, darling. Your life for little Yuichiro's. Remember?"

"I made a deal with the goddam devil."

Ferid laughed at Mika's empty response. Suddenly there was a hand moving gently through his hair, caressing his scalp. Mika stiffened under the nobleman's touch, nerves on high alert, waiting for the inevitable shift into violence. When it didn't come, when the hands continued to softly soothe and caress him, Mika felt a different kind of fear begin to take hold. He tried to get up off the floor, only to have a hand on the back of his neck push him back down.

"Not so fast, dear heart. I'm not through with you yet."

"Just let me go."

"No, I don't think so."

Mika's entire body went rigid at the sound of a zipper being pulled slowly through the dark. He began clawing helplessly against the packed earth floor, even as one of Ferid's hands continued to hold him down by the back of the neck while the other fumbled underneath his stomach. "Let me go," Mika whispered, sobbing, his whole body growing cold in a way that had nothing to do with the damp coolness of the earthen floor. Unfortunately, his tortured pleas only seemed to have the opposite effect on his captor, spurring Ferid on to even greater heights of depravity and violence.

"There, there my love. Let us revisit the good times, shall we?" Ferid's teeth nipped playfully at his ear as he pushed Mika's pants down over his hips, hooking the top of the waistband with his foot and dragging them down to his ankles in one deft movement. Mika, going preternaturally still under him, held his breath like a condemned man, waiting helplessly for the guillotine's blade to fall. Ferid's ragged breathing seemed overly loud in the darkened quiet of the little cellar. Mika jerked forward as he felt an unwanted hand moving between his legs, the fingers questing, probing. This new violation sent Mika into another frenzy.

"Get off of me!" he screamed, flailing.

"Come on, Mika. Where's that fiery disposition of yours now?" taunted Ferid, his voice raspy with desire. "Tell me again how much you hate me. Such sweet nothings only make me harder-"

"-I said, get off-"

"-Oh, if only little Yuichiro could see you now! My delicate, porcelain whore. My jewel of the quarter-"

"-God, I hate you!" Mika sobbed into the dirt as Ferid kicked his legs apart, his rigid member poking at his exposed entrance. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you," he repeated like a catechism, even as Ferid continued to force himself on him. The words died in his throat, turning into a long, tortured groan at the first horrible and invariably painful thrust. Mika turned his face into the ground, drowning out his own growing sobs.

"This is going to hurt, love. Pity _(grunt)_ it has _(grunt)_ to be _(grunt)_ this way _(grunt)_."

Mika's fingers clawed at piles of dirt as Ferid ruthlessly and painfully had his way with him. He felt himself start to zone out, to mentally exit the abhorrent scene that was taking place. He felt his consciousness begin to float up, detaching his mind from his body. That is, until a sudden jerk on the back of his hair brought him back, wrenching his neck backwards in a painful vise. It made it so much easier for Ferid to whisper his vile taunts into his ear:

"Don't go quiet on me now, Mika. It's not as much fun for me if you don't fight back." Ferid's teeth ravished his exposed throat, leaving a trail of bite marks that would not soon fade, marking his territory. "Give me that lovely, hateful mouth of yours." Ferid pulled at his hair, twisting his neck around, seeking his mouth. Their lips met in a violent parody of a kiss. Mika went rigid as he felt Ferid's tongue slip slimily between his teeth.

And then he promptly bit down on it. Hard.

"Gah! You evil little bitch!" Ferid shrieked, cuffing him on the side of the head. The hands were back at his throat again, squeezing, choking him. Mika's whole body screamed out in a litany of pain. He tugged frantically at Ferid's wrists, attempting to dislodge the man's hands. Ferid seemed to only grow angrier, more frenzied, squeezing his throat harder and harder, until an entire fireworks display of little white dots were dancing behind his eyes. All sound ceased to exist as a perilous ringing took over his ears. His whole world was nothing but a spinning kaleidoscope of pain, pain, and more pain...

Until finally-and mercifully-everything went completely and utterly black.


	5. Orpheus Descending

**Author's Note: Many special thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review this piece. Your reviews are the fuel that keeps this story's fire burning. You all are literally helping me to write it, so again-thank you! And please leave a review and let me know what you think of it so far! :)**

Chapter 5:

Orpheus Descending

Yu sat on the steps just outside the Garden Book Shop, a casual figure in white rolled shirt sleeves and vest, wearing a flat black newsies cap pulled down over his eyes. His hands rubbed together in growing anxiety as the minutes ticked by and his eyes kept flicking over to the large trolley clock that was across the street. _4:45._ Mika had agreed to meet him at four, but so far there was no sign of him. Two trolleys had already come and gone, and the only person to depart either of them was a store clerk who had breezed passed Yu without a second glance to go into the shop. He hung his head, staring morosely at the ground. His mind swirled with a million different thoughts, all of them dark. What if Mika had changed his mind again? What if he didn't really want to see him? Or worse, what if he thought Yu was just another guy who was out to use him? This last thought brought Yu to his feet and he began to pace the steps like a restless tiger in a cage.

 _4:50._ Could that possibly be it? Yu wondered. Did Mika honestly think he was trying to use him? Yu's thoughts were ambivalent on the subject. True, he had went searching for Mika because in his mind he had to try and save him from that ghastly house out in the quarter. But once Yu had finally laid eyes on him way up on that balcony, he found that his priorities had suddenly shifted, and a new desire took place of the old one. _Desire._ Yu was slow to admit it to himself, but what he was currently experiencing was the all-consuming irrational passion of first love. He had been thinking of nothing but Mika ever since he had found him, and there had been several times when Yu had to literally stop himself from hopping a trolley and going out to the quarter (against Guren's wishes). But if he showed up at that house, even set one foot inside of it, then what did that make him? Yu shook his head, disengaging himself from that train of thought. He didn't like the parallels he was drawing, so he pushed those connections to the back of his mind.

 _4:55._ Yu found his thoughts wandering to the other men who were an inevitable part of Mika's life, like the silver haired man from the balcony and the guy with the mustache from the Cafe du Monde. Did they mean anything to him? And conversely, what did Yu mean to Mika, exactly? Yu ran through Mika's words in his head. He had thought them sincere at the time, but what if they weren't? Could he trust their interactions, when it was literally Mika's job to act interested in men with whom he had little or no attachment to? Sharp toothed doubt gnawed fissures into his heart. What was genuine emotion? What was a lie? Was it all just an illusion? Yu thought about the kiss they had shared down by the river. He had thought what he was feeling was real, and believed Mika to be feeling the same thing in turn. But what if that simply wasn't true? What if Mika didn't actually feel the same way? How could Yu possibly know, inexperienced as he was?

 _5:00._ Yu ripped off his hat in exasperation, raking his hands violently through his hair until it stood out wildly in every direction. This waiting without knowing was utter torment for him. And the longer he waited, the more questions arose, giving rise to a whole new host of negative thoughts and feelings. He felt like he was going mad. Determined, he walked down the shop's stairs, his thoughts turning from black to sanguine. Anger quickened his steps, sending him sprinting across the street as the next trolley bell tolled its impending arrival. He raced across the tracks and snagged the back bar with his hand, swinging himself on board.

 _5:05._ There was only one way to find the answers he wanted. He had to go visit the House of the Rising Sun.

* * *

It was almost six when Yu finally reached Ursuline Street. He found himself pacing back and forth in indecision on the walkway directly across from the House of the Rising Sun, his head turning every now and then to look up at its vertical stack of wrought iron balconies. All the French doors leading outside were currently closed, and he saw no one come or go as he nervously waited there. Yu contemplated the front entrance, which was a plain black door flanked by two tall white columns. Steeling himself for what he obviously had to do, Yu crossed the street, walked up the four stone steps to the front door, and knocked. He held his breath as moments ticked by and no one answered. He was raising his fist to knock a second time when the door suddenly creaked open.

"You again." Yu was confronted by the same blonde woman he saw on the balcony during that first day he had come looking for Mika. She quirked an eyebrow at him. "So, pretty boy, are you actually going to come in this time or what?" Without answering her, Yu nervously stepped over the threshold.

Yu didn't know what to expect, but from where he stood just inside the door, everything seemed to be perfectly normal. Just a normal townhouse with a carpeted hallway adorned with a large gilt mirror and a cherrywood side table laden with an arrangement of multi-colored flowers. It looked like every entryway he'd ever been in back in the Garden District. Smiling a Cheshire cat's grin, the blonde woman strolled past him, motioning for him to follow her. Yu hesitated. "I'm looking for someone in particular-" he started to say, when the woman suddenly interrupted him, saying:

"-Everyone is looking for 'someone in particular' here. Why don't you come into the parlor? Maybe you'll find them there." Without waiting for him to follow, the woman walked over and opened another door off to the right. A burst of raucous laughter rang out like a church bell from inside the room. Feeling his curiosity starting to get the better of him, Yu slowly started to make his way down the hall. The blonde woman leaned provocatively against the open door, the pose highlighting her ample cleavage and the salacious smile hanging from her lips. As Yu peered cautiously around the doorframe, he felt the woman put a hand on his back and push him forcefully inside, announcing in a loud voice to the whole room:

"Hey look, everyone! We got us a real cherry boy in the house today! So who wants to be the one to do the honors?"

Yu froze, his face going as red as...well, a cherry. The entire room was now staring at him. Yu saw the girl called Chess giggling uncontrollably from her place on older man's lap, the two of them cozied up in a large easy chair by the fireplace. There was a card table set up in the middle of the room that was occupied by four people: a tall, handsome man with red hair queued back in a long braid, a boy with aquiline features and long dark hair dressed in white linen, another mustachioed man in a pinstripe suit, and another young man with flaxen hair parted severely to the side. Yu, with growing horror, recognized the flaxen haired man immediately. Unfortunately, he also recognized Yu.

"Yu?!" said Shinya Hiragi, who was his guardian's best friend. His face registered much the same shock that was Yu was feeling. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I just told everyone that," said the woman with blonde hair. "He's here to bust his cherry-"

"-don't be so rude, Horn!" chastised Shinya. "Can't you see he's already dying from embarrassment over there? Why don't you make like your name and go blow-". Shinya jumped up from his chair and ushered Yu over to an unoccupied couch. Yu still hadn't recovered from the shock of seeing Guren's friend in such a place. Yu's mouth was opening and closing like a ventriloquist's dummy. He was also at a complete loss for words. Fortunately, Shinya was more than happy to fill the silence. "So, uh, Yu-I take it dear old Guren doesn't know you're here, yes? Well, if you're worried about me ratting you out-don't. I mean, you're practically a grown man and all now. And, you know, we all have needs, and this really is the best place in…" Yu didn't bother to listen to the rest of Shinya's prattling. He heard Mika's words from the cafe echoing in his head: _I never said they were respectable, Yu. I said they care about appearances. That's all. It's not the same._ Yu should have been breathing a sigh of relief over the fact that Shinya had promised not to betray him to Guren, but Yu couldn't be concerned with that now. He had to find Mika. Without waiting for Shinya to finish speaking, he turned to him and asked him point blank, "Do you know someone here named Mikaela Hyakuya?"

Shinya just blinked. "Uh, no, I don't think so-"

"-he means Mika," supplied the red haired man helpfully. He didn't bother to look up from his hand of cards, his face as neutral as a desert strip. "If you're looking for Mika, I'm afraid you're out of luck, sweet boy. You see, Mika is quite indisposed, and will be for a while-"

"-what is that supposed to mean?" asked Yu. An odd silence fell over the room. Yu stood up from the couch.

"Just what are you saying about Mika?" Yu prodded again, approaching the card table. He glared down at the red haired man, who seemed to be ignoring him. Then the young man in white to his left said, in quieter tones, "Mika had another run in with Lord Bathory this afternoon. We found him locked in the cellar about two hours ago. The doctor says he'll be alright, but he definitely won't be up and about any time soon."

Yu felt his entire frame wash over with cold. It was as if someone had walked up behind him and dumped a pail of freezing water over the top of his head. The whole situation was all so surreal; he wasn't sure if he was awake or dreaming. "I'm...I'm sorry, but could you repeat that?" he said, not trusting his ears.

"Lord Ferid beat Mika up again. He's gonna be laid up for a while," explained Chess in plainer words. No one in the room showed any shock or surprise at this comment. Yu looked at each and every face, searching for a sign of concern or pity or outrage or...anything. Nothing. He saw nothing. The surreal feeling returned.

"Where is he?" asked Yu in a dangerously low voice.

"Mika? Up in his room-"

"-take me to him."

Chess blinked. "I'm not sure Krul would like that-"

"-I said take me to him. Right now."

The red haired man threw his cards down on the table. "I'll take you up there," he answered, rising from his chair. "Follow me." He breezed past Yu and out into the hall and mounted a flight of stairs. Yu followed along behind him in a dreamlike trance. The man paused on the first step and turned to Yu and said flatly:

"You sure you want to go up there? It's not a pretty sight." When the only answer he got was a harsh glare, he continued up the stairs, saying, "You could do soooo much better. A good looking boy like you, all rich and well connected. You deserve something finer." He suddenly turned around, purposefully invading Yu's personal space, forcing Yu back against the wall. The red haired man lifted his hand, caught one of Yu's wild tendrils between his fingers. He twirled it flirtatiously, staring down at Yu with limpid brown eyes. "You could have me, for instance," he said, making his offer very clear.

Yu pushed the man's hand away. "I'm not here for that," he said testily.

The man smiled in a predatory manner. "No? You come into a house of pleasure and you want us to believe that you're not 'here for that'?"

"I don't care what you believe," answered Yu frostily. "Just take me to Mika."

The man shrugged off Yu's comment and continued up the stairs. They passed an array of brightly colored doors, stopping only at the very last door in the hallway, a red one. The blue door next to it had strange slapping sounds emitting from behind it. Yu refused to ponder what those sounds might be.

"Here we are," said the red haired man to Yu. He watched the man bang on the door. "Oh, Mika! There's a visitor here to see you!" the man announced in a false sing-song voice.

A small voice from inside answered, "Go away."

The red haired man raised an eyebrow. "I don't think he means to leave without-"

"-Mika it's me! Please, let me come in!" Yu called, pushing the man out of the way. There was nothing but silence (except for that maddening slapping sound coming from the room next door). Yu laid his ear against the door. "Mika, please. Just let me in."

"I don't think he wants you here," observed the red haired man coolly. Yu shot him a nasty look. Then, without waiting for a response, he turned the doorknob and went inside.


	6. In the Underworld

**Author's Note: Thanks for all the encouraging reviews! As I said before, they're my rocket fuel. :). Also, I want to take a moment and issue a warning for violence in the second part of this chapter.**

Chapter 6:

In the Underworld

The room was shrouded in a nest of shadows which shifted and swayed and scurried about like a bunch of overgrown mice around the darkened pieces of furniture. The curtains hanging on the bed flapped gently back and forth like a diaphanous pair of angel's wings. The dot pattern on the coverlet was alive and moving and scuttling across the bed like a colony of little pill bugs. Mika watched with drug addled vision as these tiny bugs ran to the bottom of the footboard and over the side and onto the floor. He wanted to sit up so he could see where they went, but his body wouldn't move. It was kind of a funny thing, that. Everything-absolutely everything-in the room was moving except him.

"Mika?"

The hallucinations must have been getting worse, because Mika could swear he had just heard Yu's voice. A shadow moved, then shifted and solidified, materializing like a silent sentinel at the foot of his bed.

"Be careful of the bugs," Mika said to it in a groggy voice.

The angel's wings spread apart, ready to take flight. "Mika?" The angel spoke his name with Yu's voice. Then: "What bugs?"

Mika gasped and struggled into a sitting position. The wooden headboard of the sleigh bed was hard and unforgiving beneath his back. "Yu-chan? Is that really you? You look like an angel…"

"Mika, what happened to you? Your neck-". Mika reached up to touch his throat. He had forgotten about the ring of bruises there, deep and dark like the age lines of an open tree trunk. He smiled and said drunkenly, "I'm like a tree."

Yu's brows knit together as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "What are you talking about?"

Mika smiled wanly. "It's not me. It's the laudanum talking. It's making everything in the room move. Except me. Because I'm dead." Mika's eyes went wide. "Is that why you're an angel? Is it because I'm dead?"

Yu reached out to take his hand. Mika stared down at it stupidly. "You're not dead, Mika. It's just the medicine making you talk this way."

Mika's eyes suddenly filled with tears. "I wish I was dead. Then I wouldn't have to endure this purgatory anymore. Look how red this room is. It's because we're in hell."

"No, Mika."

"Yes, it is! This is hell!" insisted Mika. "I've been living in it for years. And Ferid Bathory is the devil."

"Is that the name of the man who did this to you?" Yu asked darkly.

"Who else? For years and years I've endured his torment. And all because...because…" and here Mika started sobbing outright. Yu moved to the headboard and placed his arms around his shoulders and held him. "Don't worry, Mika. I swear I'll do whatever it takes to protect you-"

Mika laughed bitterly. "You can't protect me, Yu. No one can. You don't know what's it like. It's because you don't remember the way things were. And part of that is my fault, because when we were children I shielded you from the worst of it. You were always so innocent." The sobbing stopped as quickly as it started and Mika turned to Yu with a distant look in his eyes. "Do you remember Akane?" he asked suddenly.

Yu just looked at Mika quizzically. "Of course I do. She grew up in Hyakuya house with us-"

"-she was sold, Yu. To a house just off Bourbon Street. And then she was killed by a John, strangled to death before her fourteenth birthday. They found her body in the river."

Yu's body went as rigid as the headboard. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I'm too tired to shield you from it anymore," Mika said with heavy lidded eyes. "And that man has literally beaten the strength out of me." He raised his hands and placed them on either side of Yu's face, looking him in the eye. "And I love you too much to hide the truth from you anymore-"

"-Mika, this is the drug talking-"

"-no, it's not! It's me. It's more me than I've ever been! Do you remember, Yu? The days leading up to my thirteenth birthday? Do you remember how sad I was?"

"That was right around the time Guren took me away."

Mika nodded. "Yes. That was...the worst time for me. Because you were gone. And I was all alone. I had no one-"

Yu's eyes were shimmering like the facets on a perfectly cut emerald. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mika. It's because I left you alone-"

"-no, don't say that! If you had stayed you would have ended up like Akane or worse...like me." Mika smiled a rueful, bitter smile. "I was sad because...because it was on my thirteenth birthday that I promised to willingly give Lord Ferid my virginity, in exchange for getting you out of the quarter, for placing you with a good family. It was the only thing of value I had to trade, and he wanted it, so I...I…"

Yu's arms tightened around him. Mika could feel his tenseness, his barely restrained anger pulsing through his body like the signals through a telegraph wire. He knew the anger wasn't directed at him. "I...think I remember him coming around the house," said Yu in a flat, strange voice. "Tall man, silver hair?"

"Yes," Mika answered numbly.

"The man from the balcony two days ago?"

"Yes," was all Mika said.

"I think I hate him."

"Not as much as me. He ruined my life. And has every day for the past four years."

"I'm so sorry, Mika. I'm sorry for what you've had to endure. And I want Bathory to pay for what he's done to you." Mika felt Yu stirring beneath him, felt him untangling himself from their embrace.

"Where are you going?" asked Mika in a slightly panicked voice.

"There's something I've got to do-"

"-wait! Don't leave yet!" Mika clung to Yu's frame until he was forced to sit back down.

"Stay with me. I know I'm a horrible person. Just another ugly, used up French Quarter whore-"

"-don't say that about yourself-"

"-I say it because it's true." Mika leaned forward, pressing a single soft, delicate kiss to the underside of Yu's neck. And then another. And then another. He could feel Yu's pulse jumping, the vein twitching like an overexcited mare beneath his lips. "It doesn't matter, though. I'm far too selfish to let you be. Even though it'll be the end of you. You'll see. I'll drag you down right into the gutter with me. Because I love you far too much to let you go." Mika's hands slipped from Yu's face, to his shoulders, to his thighs, his hands gently caressing as he went.

Yu snatched up his hands and held them in his own. "Stop, Mika. This isn't you, this is the drug talking again," Yu said in a rough, strained voice.

"No, Yu-chan. I told you, this _is_ me. I love you. I do. I was just too scared to say so earlier. So I'm going to say everything to you, confess everything to you, right now while I have this drug as an excuse and I can claim to not remember any of it later. I love you. I always have. If you believe nothing else I say tonight, please believe that."

Yu's eyes shone glassily in the growing darkness, the unshed tears drawing all the leftover light in the room to them. "I love you, too," he whispered back. Mika smiled tiredly. Then he said sleepily, snuggling further into Yu's lap:

"Let's run away together. Just like you said on the first day you came here. Say we'll do it. You and I…"

"Yes…"

Mika watched groggily as all the shadows began to coalesce, turning into a single giant vortex of darkness. The meager light coming through the French Doors was fading, conceding defeat to the encroaching night.

"Say it, Yu-chan."

"Yes, Mika. We'll leave together. I promise." Silence. Then, in a quieter voice:

"You freed me from this place. And now I'm going to free you from Ferid Bathory…"

* * *

Hazy orbs of light shone around each of the gas lamps that lined the cobbled drive leading up to Ferid Bathory's Queen Anne style Victorian mansion. It was a large house, colored a pale mauve with soft amethyst gingerbread trim, sitting like a frilly, overly decorated wedding cake amongst its very extensive grounds. Besides the large circular drive bordering a lavish Greek fountain out front, the back area of the house also boasted a large garden with many artistically cut hedgerows, a full stable, and a plant nursery housed in a glass greenhouse. It was just after twilight and the moon was peeking out like a curious child around the curtain of cloud cover that came and went with the whim of a stormy, blustery wind. There was the scent of electricity in the air, mingling with the headiness of the magnolia blossoms. Despite it being night, the heat still reigned over the district, touching everything with its hot, clammy grip, leaving unwanted trails of moisture in its wake. The lamp lights flickered hotly in anticipation. There was a midsummer storm brewing over New Orleans.

On the top step leading up to Ferid's porch sat Yu, his head bowed and a long sword resting on his knees. He was as still as death. He'd been waiting there patiently for hours, as alert and as watchful as the Sphinx out in the desert. From the muggy dark came the sound of horse's hooves, their rhythmic _clip-clop, clip-clop!_ echoing on the cobblestones. A figure appeared on the very edge of the gas lamp's aura. _Clip-clop, clip-clop!_ A white stallion then materialized out of the darkness, beautiful and noble like something from a dream, only it carried the imposing figure of Ferid Bathory on its back like a nightmare made corporeal.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" said Bathory in a lilting greeting. Yu raised his head, his steely green eyes hard with latent fury. Bathory cocked a questioning eyebrow at him. "Why, bless my soul, if it isn't Yuichiro Hyakuya! It's been what? Four years since I last saw you? My, my, how you've grown," Bathory's eyes skimmed Yu up and down in a way that made him feel uncomfortable in his own skin. Still, he stood up from the steps and drew his sword, pointing it directly at Bathory.

Bathory merely looked amused. "What's this then? Are you actually pointing that toy at me-"

"-Ferid Bathory, your abuse of Mikaela Hyakuya ends right here, right now. Tonight." Yu descended the steps with his sword raised and a violent tremor coloring his words. Bathory smiled a condescending smile at him.

"Are you seriously here to fight me over the supposed honor of that Storyville whore?" Yu paused in his approach as Bathory suddenly burst out laughing. "Really, little Yuichiro, you should choose your lovers with greater care-"

"-he's not my lover," Yu cut in. This only caused Bathory to raise another eyebrow.

"Not your lover? Well, now, that's even sadder. Considering how many men he spreads his legs for daily out in the quarter. And you're the one who gets left out?" Bathory clucked his tongue. "I always knew he was a manipulative little bitch, but really, this is a bit much-"

"-shut up!"

Bathory leaned over his horse, lowering his voice in a faux confidential manner. "In fact, I had a little piece of that myself earlier today-"

"-I said shut up-"

"-and oh, it was good-"

"-shut up-"

"-you should have heard the sound of that little bitch begging me-"

"-I SAID, SHUT UP!" Red faced with rage, Yu charged headlong at Bathory. The horse startled and reared up, paddling its front hooves at Yu, forcing him back several paces. Without warning, Bathory snapped the reins, urging the horse forward at a gallop. Yu stumbled and fell as the creature bore down him, dropping his sword in the dirt. As he started to get back up he felt a crack of pain blindside him across the face.

Bathory, still on his horse, was brandishing his riding crop. He proceeded to beat Yu across the head and shoulders with it mercilessly. "You sanctimonious little prick! How dare you raise a hand to me! How dare you!" he screamed, enraged. _Crack! Crack! Crack!_ Bathory's arm came down over and over again like a hammer of judgement. The blood running into Yu's eyes blinded him, made it impossible for him to see. He stumbled aimlessly in the dirt on all fours, trying to get away from those terrible, violent, and seemingly never ending blows. Finally, Bathory jumped down from his horse to deliver a nasty, brutal kick to the young boy's stomach. Yu was left writhing on the ground in utter agony.

"How dare you ( _kick_ ) come to my house ( _kick)_ and threaten me ( _kick_ )!" Bathory spat. "You and that no good quarter slut will both pay for this ill advised insult."

It was a final, concussive kick to the head timed with a brilliant flash of lightning that sent Yu pinwheeling into untold pain. Pain, and then a spiraling descent into a fathomless void of silent, all consuming darkness.


	7. Love's Rejects

Chapter 7:

Love's Rejects

 _Heat. So much heat. It was too much, trapping him. He was like a fly caught in a web, cocooned and unable to move. Suffocating. He tried to move, hoping that the spider's venom had worn off. Hoping he could escape. He felt his arms stir, felt his hands creeping along the cottony insides of the cocoon. Yes, he thought, I am finally moving. Still, it was hot. So, so hot. He tried to move his lips, his mouth. Tried to speak. He was rewarded by the slurred sound of a single, solitary word:_

"Hot."

 _The cocoon shook in its web. There was another sound, at first too low to understand, but then slowly increasing in volume:_

"Yu? Yu, did you finally say something? Please, Yu…"

 _He knew that voice. It sounded so far away, so distant. He had to get out of here, had to escape from this cocoon. He tried his voice again. This time he managed a second word:_

"Too...hot." _He flailed at the cotton and felt it suddenly give, felt it lifted off and away. He opened his eyes to a world filled with sunlight. So much light. He couldn't see. Everything was a blur. Including the face leaning over him._

"Thank god, Yu! You're finally awake!"

"Yoichi?" Yu blinked over and over, and Yoichi's face slowly came into focus, like the flipping, fluttering frames of a moving picture show. He swallowed, his throat as dry as parchment. His voice came out in a low, unrecognizable rasp. "What happened?"

Yoichi's eyes threatened tears. He wiped at them with a stubborn hand. "God, we were so scared, Yu. So scared you wouldn't wake up. You were beaten so badly, but the doctor said all we could do is wait…"

Memory returned, creeping up on the shores of his mind like a subtle surf, the waves barely touching his bruised psyche. "Wait, I…" he began, but broke off. He remembered going to Bathory's house, remembered confronting him. Remembered the riding crop coming down over and over. The screams. The pain. _How dare you how dare you how dare you!_ Yoichi looked concerned as Yu's eyes appeared to drift off and away. The younger boy reached over and took his hand. "Are you alright? Is there anything I can get you?" Yoichi asked in a solicitous voice.

"Water," Yu croaked.

Yoichi jumped up and went to a sideboard where a large pitcher sat. Yu looked around, recognizing the familiar contents of his own room: bed, desk, fireplace, wardrobe. Yoichi spoke as he poured:

"You have to tell us what happened, Yu. A man driving a cart found you at the gates of Lafayette Cemetery, lying face down in the rain. When they brought you here, you looked dead. I was so afraid." Yoichi turned back to the bed, holding out the glass of water.

Yu held it with trembling hands, drinking greedily. Yoichi continued to talk, sitting on the edge of Yu's bed. "And then you wouldn't wake up. You took a really bad blow to the head. And that cut on your forehead will probably scar."

Yu reached up and gingerly touched the bandage wound around his head. "So...how long have I been out?"

"Three days," confirmed Yoichi.

Yu's eyes widened in horror. Memory crashed over the ravaged shore of his brain with the force of a tidal wave. _How dare you threaten me! You and that no good quarter slut will both pay for this!_ Panic overtook his muscles and Yu started to scramble out of his bed. His uncooperative legs promptly gave out beneath him and Yoichi had to grab onto him to keep him from falling to the floor. "Yu? What's the matter? You're far too sick to get up," said Yoichi.

"Mika! I have to go…" said Yu, fear tremoring the syllables of his words. Yoichi pushed him back down on the pillows, an unusual anger flowing from the other boy. "No, Yu. I'm not letting you out of this bed. You almost died. Those people...those people you've been associating with down in the quarter. They're not good people, Yu. I know you think I'm ignorant, but I'm not. I know these two things are connected. Guren doesn't know, but if you insist on this-"

Yu grabbed Yoichi by the shoulders, staring him in the eyes. Desperation propelled his words, "No! Do not tell Guren about this! Please, Yoichi! Please, help me. I need to get to the quarter. I'm afraid…" And here he bowed his head, his words fading into a whisper, "I'm afraid that my actions from the other night may have put...may have put someone I care about in even more danger. Because of me. Because of something stupid I did." Yu refused to look up.

"Yu, you're my family. I won't stand by and watch you-"

"-he's my family, too, Yoichi!" Yu interrupted, raising his head, his eyes hard with determination. "Mika is also my family and I will not stay here while-"

"-do you love him?" Yoichi suddenly asked.

Yu's whole body went still. Moments passed before the inevitable confession passed his lips:

"Yes."

Yoichi looked down, his eyes examining the pattern on Yu's comforter with great interest. "Alright, then," said the other boy in a quiet voice. "I won't stop you."

"Oh, Yoichi!" Yu smiled and lunged forward and threw his arms around the brown haired boy's shoulders, catching him in a smothering hug. "Thank you, Yoichi!"

"Don't thank me," Yoichi mumbled against Yu's nightshirt. "Because I still think you're making a terrible decision…"

* * *

It was twilight in the French Quarter and the night sky overhead shimmered like an indigo canopy patterned with a million twinkling stars. The courtyard at the House of the Rising Sun was lit with multiple strings of white paper lanterns, their lights shining like iridescent pearls in the semi-darkness. The sound of a vaudeville piano could be heard tinkling up from the open space, its notes jaunty and lively. The fountain sprayed water in the background and dozens of koi darted through its shallow depths like colorful, rolling pinballs. Laughter echoed from every corner of the house, and bottles of champagne were being liberally passed back and forth, the glasses refilled before they were even emptied. There were people from all walks of life present at this particular party: Storyville prostitutes, their rich Garden District patrons, French Quarter musicians and artists-everyone and anyone who lived in New Orleans was welcome inside on this night. The House's walls were packed to the brim with occupants, all of them coming to pay tribute to the quarter's most powerful and influential madam: Queen Krul Tepes.

"Happy Birthday, Krul!" screamed Chess from the courtyard's balcony. Krul, dressed in an off-the-shoulder black dress trimmed with expensive French lace, circulated amongst her guests, receiving their presents and compliments even as she made sure their glasses were full and their spirits were high. Even though it was the Queen's birthday, no one in the quarter had any idea how old she actually was. Some whispered that she was far older than her youthful appearance suggested, and was practically a dowager. Others whispered she was immortal, impermeable to age, having sold her black soul in a wicked voodoo ceremony held by Marie Laveau herself in St. Louis Cemetery. Still others laughed and said she was a prodigy, and barely past twenty. The truth was, no one really knew for sure.

Tucked away at a small wrought iron table in the courtyard's corner sat Mika, who was currently refilling the champagne glass of the same mustachioed man who had approached him in the Cafe du Monde five days ago. The paper lantern swaying above Mika's head bathed his hair in pure golden light, and the lashes on his wide blue eyes were thick and heavy as he lowered his gaze almost shyly to the ground. The mustachioed man, clearly enamored with Mika, reached across the table and caught one his long, blond tresses in his hand. Mika raised his eyes, catching and holding the man's gaze in their seductive, cerulean depths. The metal chair screamed out in protest as it scraped across the stones, the man eagerly sliding his seat closer to Mika's. The man then leaned over and began nuzzling along Mika's collarbone. Mika rolled his eyes over the man's shoulder at Crowley, who was strolling by with a half empty glass of champagne and a marked sway in his step. Crowley suddenly paused, tilting his head as if remembering something, then turned and said in a slurred voice to Mika:

"Hey, Mika. Whatever happened to that little green eyed school boy you were courting? No one's seen him around here for days."

Mika glared at Crowley over the mustached man's shoulder. The man's head suddenly snapped up and he chimed in, "Oh, you mean that black haired boy who was sitting with you in the Cafe du Monde?" The mustachioed man's beady eyes glittered inquisitively. "I remember him. Nice looking boy with pretty green eyes. What _did_ happen to him?"

Mika composed his face into an inscrutable, emotionless mask. The bitterness, however, made its way out through his voice. "I'm afraid I may have scared him off. I said some...rather unpleasant things to him while being treated with laudanum."

The man shrugged. "Pity. He was very pretty. I would have paid handsomely to have had you both-"

"-I'm sure you would have," said Mika through gritted teeth. His chair scraped back as he promptly stood up. "Excuse me for a moment." Without waiting for a response, Mika turned on his heel and began walking away. He had to maneuver around standing groups of people, who were drinking and chatting in throngs. Mika's head was pounding, a result of too much champagne and his thoughts being unwillingly turned onto the one subject he was trying desperately to forget: Yu.

"Damn you, Crowley," Mika whispered, rubbing his temples with his hands. _I'm so sorry, Yu,_ he thought to himself. _I said too much; I asked too much of you. What was I thinking? I was out of my mind when I said those things. Now you'll never come back._ Mika's eyes glimmered with the faceted light of multiple unshed tears as he made his way up the crowded steps leading to the courtyard's balcony. Snatches of conversation floated by him as he went:

 _Have you been to the theater to see that new show..._

 _It was terrible. The last stages of consumption, you know. She was throwing up blood everywhere..._

 _I love the drinks here. I mean, the sex, too. Don't get me wrong. But God, Krul certainly knows her booze…_

 _And Yu still hasn't woken up. Guren is beside himself. Someone beat the poor kid to a pulp and dumped him just outside the gates of Lafayette Cemetery.._

Mika's head turned as this last little bit of information caught his attention. That's when he noticed Shinya Hiragi leaning against the rails, carrying on a conversation with Horn, who was nodding her head in mock sympathy. With his heart pounding in his ears like a bass drum, Mika walked up to Hiragi and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, did I just hear you talking about Yuichiro Hyakuya?"

Shinya reluctantly turned his attention away from Horn to look at Mika. "Yes. Why?"

"Did you say something about him not waking up?" Mika prompted.

"Well, yes. It's a terrible thing, really. But there's nothing anyone can do about it. The doctor says he'll have to wake up on his own-"

"-what happened?" Mika interrupted almost rudely.

Shinya, always eager for conversation, began to relate the whole tale from the beginning. "Apparently, Yu just didn't come home one night. No one knows what happened to him. Then a delivery driver found him passed out in the rain in front of Lafayette Cemetery about three or four days ago. Seems someone had beat him up pretty badly, but no one knows who did it. I mean, Guren has lots of enemies, but that would be a low blow, going after one his young wards like that. The doctor says he has blunt force trauma to the head, probably a concussion. Last I heard, he still hadn't woken up."

Horn grabbed onto Shinya's arm, wrapping herself around him like an agreeable python. "Poor Shinya, how dreadful," she cooed as if it was Shinya himself who was suffering. Mika simply turned and numbly walked away, his heart trip hammering in his chest. Suddenly, a loud shot rang out in the night, and the piano banged to an abrupt halt, and people from the front of the house started yelling. Mika looked around him in confusion as several people poured into the courtyard, cursing and screaming as they went. Chaos swept through the party like a rolling fog of panic and people began to flee for the exits. Mika walked over to the railing, leaning over the side. From below, a head of bright silver hair appeared.

"WHERE IS HE? WHERE IS THAT NO GOOD BLOND HAIRED WHORE?" Ferid Bathory appeared in the courtyard underneath the balcony where Mika was standing. He brandished an old-fashioned revolver, waving it recklessly over his head. He moved in a shaky, unsure manner, and Mika was pretty sure he was blind drunk. His words slurred as he continued to yell at the now mostly empty courtyard.

"MI-MI-MIKA! COME OUT, COME OUT, WHEREVER YOU ARE! I KNOW YOU'RE HERE." A piece from the stone fountain flew off as Ferid fired off another shot, waving his gun aimlessly. The few people who were left in the courtyard hid under tables or behind statuary or cringed in terror on the ground. No one dared to make a move. Krul stood upright and rigid in one corner, her eyes lifting up to meet Mika's. With a nod, Mika casually propped his elbows on the railing and called out to the courtyard below:

"I'm right here, Lord Ferid."

Ferid's head swerved drunkenly toward the balcony. An ugly smile split his lips. "Ah, there you are, my little jewel. How I've missed you."

Mika tilted his head questioningly and said, "Have you now?" He started to slowly walk back across the balcony, toward the stairs, and Bathory's head turned and followed him, his greedy eyes tracking his every movement. He lifted the gun and pointed it in Mika's direction.

"Now, now. Don't try to flee, my little jewel. You won't get far."

Mika kept walking as if nothing were amiss. "Do I look like I'm running?" He paused at the head of the stairs. Ferid, like a predator closing in on its prey, stumbled over to the bottom of the steps. From the corner of his eye, Mika saw Krul slip undetected from her corner.

The gun shook wildly in Ferid's grip. Mika's demeanor reflected nothing but utter calm. Ferid, thrown off by this, began to yell up the stairs: "What's wrong with you? Why aren't you begging for your life? Don't you know I could kill you-"

"-so do it," said Mika stonily. He propped his elbow on the bannister, casually cupping his chin in his hand. He looked down at Ferid with flat, emotionless eyes. "Go on, then. Shoot me."

Ferid lifted the revolver, his face grimacing. The whole courtyard had gone preternaturally still and the only sound was the repetitive gurgle of the fountain. Finally, Mika whispered to Ferid in a voice low enough for only him to hear, "The love of my life is in a coma-most likely because of you-and he may never wake up. I don't have anything else to live for." Ferid staggered back as if he had been struck. He fired another random shot into the air, screaming:

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE STILL PINING OVER THAT WORTHLESS PRICK! I'VE GIVEN YOU EVERYTHING! EVERYTHING, I TELL YOU! FOR YEARS AND YEARS! AND YET YOU STILL WON'T-" Ferid's yelling ceased as quickly as it began, his head falling forward like a puppet that had its strings cut. Moments ticked by and he looked up, glaring at Mika. "I would have given you everything, you know," he said in a low, bitter voice. "I would have taken you out of here, installed you in a lavish flat out in the district. You could have had it all. Yet, you always rejected my offers. You rejected me-"

"-of course I rejected you," Mika stated plainly, without emotion. "I despise you. I hate every moment I have to spend in your presence. You make my skin crawl. And for your information, I'd rather stay in the quarter and fuck a dozen different men a day than be your Garden District mistress."

There was a slight gasp from somewhere in the courtyard which seemed to snap Bathory out of his frozen, open mouthed state. Full blown fury burned in his usually cold eyes. "You worthless bitch, I'm going to kill you!" Ferid raised his arm, cocking the gun. And then Krul crept up behind him with a hammer and promptly bashed him over the head with it.

The cheer that went up over the courtyard was deafening as Bathory slumped unconscious to the ground. The revolver fell from his grasp and Krul kicked it away with one delicate, laced up boot. She then turned and addressed the crowd thusly:

"This man is henceforth banned from this establishment! His unpredictable and violent actions have rendered him unfit to socialize with normal human beings." Krul looked down at Bathory with disgust. She snapped her fingers twice.

"Gentlemen, please take out this piece of trash and deposit it on the curb where it belongs…"


	8. When the Levee Breaks

**Author's Note: Welcome back to the newest installment of my lurid Southern Gothic story hour! Today's chapter is going to be really short, because I've allowed the ending to just sort of fade to black (otherwise, there would be warnings plastered all over it). You'll see why when you get there...and as usual, please leave a review!**

Chapter 8:

When the Levee Breaks

Yu stumbled, grabbing hold of the fluted wrought iron post that marked the corner of Decatur and Ursuline. The world tilted at an alarming angle, and he stood swaying against the signpost, trying desperately to get his bearings. From down the street, he could hear music playing. Piano notes and the elephant trumpet of brass instruments floated up to his ears from the direction of the House of the Rising Sun. Staring down the street with squinted eyes, Yu could see a million lights blazing over the house, burning brightly like an incandescent birthday cake as if some sort of party were currently in progress. Yu rubbed the exposed stitches on his forehead, pulling rogue pieces of hair down over the offending sight. He had taken the bandage off on the trolley because so many people had been staring at him. Luckily, it had grown dark, with night falling down over the city like a blackened stage curtain, and Yu had walked, alone and mostly undisturbed, from St. Charles Avenue to his current position. Ignoring the double vision he was experiencing, he pushed off from the post and started walking down Ursuline Street.

The birthday cake blurred, split apart, and became two birthday cakes. Yu shook his head, willing the vision away. He stumbled again, this time over a loose cobblestone, and felt himself cast forward, the ground coming up to meet him at too fast a pace. The rough bricks scratched his palms as he collapsed on all fours on the ground. "I can't...I can't stop. Mika," Yu muttered to himself, even as he felt a wave of nausea overtake him. Perhaps Yoichi had been right. Perhaps he really wasn't well enough to make this journey.

 _No!_ Yu thought as he struggled to his knees. _I have to do this! I have to see Mika! I have to know he is alright! I've been gone for days, what must he be thinking right now? Mika!_ Desperation propelled his limbs forward and Yu started to get up when he was interrupted by a sinister, familiar sing-song voice:

"Well, well. Yuichiro Hyakuya. What a nice, unexpected surprise," purred Ferid Bathory, who was standing within the glowing circle of a gas lamppost, staring down at him with a predatory grin. His normally immaculately coiffed silver hair was marred with streaks of red. Yu realized with horror it was blood. Bathory's drunken eyes glittered ominously with a dark emotion that Yu couldn't identify, but one which instinctually sent him scrambling back across the pavement in the opposite direction. Bathory made a threatening step his way and Yu started yelling:

"Stay away from me! Stay back!" Yu's cracked voice stood no chance of carrying over the loud party music. The two of them were alone on the darkened street. Bathory advanced on him, a twisted smile covering his face, saying nothing. The nobleman's silence was far more terrifying than his usual taunts and comments. Yu's feet scrabbled uselessly at the pavement as Bathory reached out for him.

"No! Don't! Stop!"

Meanwhile, the piano music and brass horns played cheerfully on and on…

* * *

The cracks in the ceiling were spinning wildly, creating a kaleidoscope pattern along with the dark wet stains in the tile, turning and twisting and spinning across his field of vision. His voice was gone. His feet were gone. His hands were gone. He couldn't move his body at all. It felt too heavy-many, many tons too heavy, like one of those slow moving tankers he saw going up and down the Mississippi, stacked high with dense wooden and metal packing crates. It felt like the crates were resting on top of him. He felt his lips trying to form words, but they just weren't cooperating. It was hard to concentrate when the ceiling above him was one big whirling, spinning blur.

"Make it stop," he finally rasped. Or maybe he just thought he spoke.

"What was that dear? Speak up, I couldn't hear you."

He knew that voice. It wasn't a nice voice. A chill tickled along his limbs, but it was distant and easy to ignore. The fear didn't quite penetrate. He tried to speak again. "The ceiling. Make it stop spinning," he slurred.

"The ceiling? It's spinning? Now, now. That would just be the ether talking." Suddenly the ceiling went away and there was a face looming over him, a shimmery blur of silver and red, like blood on a sword. He felt a twinge at the back of his brain, a small dull warning but it wasn't strong enough to elicit a response from his limbs. They still wouldn't move. "Why can't I move?" he complained, not realizing he spoke out loud.

"I just told you, dear. It's the ether." There was that voice again, triggering some sort of alarm in a far off, distant corner of his mind, but the heavy feeling weighing him down wouldn't allow him to heed it, to care. Red and silver surrounded a twisted, vulgar smile as it filled his line of vision. He tried to move back from it, but his limbs wouldn't cooperate. It was like there was a sick clown standing over him, smiling down at him, willing to do him harm…

 _Do him harm…_

Yu's head twisted back and forth. He tried to rise, but found that he couldn't. And not just because of the heavy feeling in his limbs, but because he was being restrained. He was back in the spider's web again, back inside the cocoon.

"No, I don't want to…" Yu slurred.

"Don't want to what?" the voice asked in a taunting lilt.

"You've drugged me," Yu stated plainly. The ceiling started to settle down, and he was able to focus on the individual cracks and water stains above his head. "Why?"

"You'll thank me for it later. It's the only mercy I'm going to afford you this night." The coldness in that voice sent Yu into a frenzy. He pulled at the coarse ropes that bound his wrists, turning to stare at the plain, metal slatted headboard he was attached to. The fear, previously held at bay by the slowly vaporizing drug, slammed into him full force. "What have you done to me? Where am I? What are you doing?" The questions all tumbled out in terrified squeak as Yu continued to pull helplessly at his restraints.

"Oh? Is the drug wearing off? Such a pity for you, then." Ferid Bathory sat down on the bed next to Yu, staring down at him with empty, emotionless eyes. One side of his face twisted up into a half smile, and he said to Yu conversationally, "As to your other questions, we're currently in a house off Bourbon street. A house that I've just sold you to for quite a pretty penny. But I don't actually care about that, that was just a small side benefit-"

"-what-"

"-of my little plan. Don't take it personally, Yuichiro. This really has nothing to do with you-"

"-what-"

"-it has everything to do with that uppity blond whore over on Ursuline Street. He thinks he's too good for me; he thinks he's travelled far beyond any pain I can dole out-"

"-WHAT-"

"-but I'm about to prove him wrong. I'm about to destroy the one thing he truly cares about. Obliterate it. He thinks he can get away with humiliating me in front of all of New Orleans, but I'm going to show him what true humiliation-"

"-WHAT-"

"-is. What true pain feels like. You see, I'm going to break him like a cheap piece of china." With this last decree, Bathory rose from the bed, staring off into space. Then he added, in a flat, toneless voice:

"I hope you're ready for your first customer, little Yuichiro. Because it's going to be a long night and there's a line outside this door." Bathory went over to the door and opened it, motioning someone Yu couldn't see inside.

And that's when Yu started begging. The word 'no' slipped from his lips over and over again, a pitiful, half-whispered plea which fell on deaf, uncaring ears. He thrashed about as the first man approached the bed, a long shadow falling over his face, that single syllable of 'no'' building up, climbing in volume, until it became a wounded animal's high-pitched scream of pain. It was unbearable, deafening.

Bathory, annoyed by the sound, took off his tie and gagged him with it, leaving Yu keening like a muzzled dog, his throat spilling out a constant, agonized whine that reverberated off the filth encrusted walls, the sounds lost in an unforgiving and uncaring night...


	9. Crossing Boundaries

**Author's Note: This chapter carries a warning for adult sexual situations and violence. Read it at your own discretion. Also, I am on vacation this week, so if anyone has any one shot smut requests they'd like to see-well, come at me bro! Or pm me, rather. I'm at your service (within reason, of course).**

Chapter 9:

Crossing Boundaries

The room was completely dark except for the soft, subtle shafts of moonlight which crept like pale, ghostly apparitions through the open French doors. Remnant sounds of the party drifted up from below, made up of drunkenly played pieces of music interspersed with random shouts and screams of laughter that filtered like smoke through the house's walls. Mika sat in an oak chair by his rolltop desk, quietly pulling on black knee high boots, trying not to disturb the other occupant in the room. He had just stood up and was hooking a long, white riding cloak with a hood around his shoulders when a deep baritone voice came from the direction of the bed.

"Going for a ride?"

"Yes," was all he answered.

"At midnight?"

"Yes."

"Do you even own a horse?"

"No." This was a small problem, but Mika thought he had a solution. "I'm going across the street to Stefano's. He's the delivery man for all the houses around here. I'll hire a horse from him."

"In the middle of the night?" Amusement colored this statement.

"Yes," he said in another short, clipped answer.

"I have a horse, you know. Tied by the back gate."

Mika didn't respond to this. He turned and picked up his gloves from the desk. When he turned back around, he found himself face to face with the tall, imposing, and currently shirtless figure of Kureto Hiragi. His bare skin was waxen beneath the pale moonlight as he leaned casually against the door jamb. He rubbed his hand sleepily through his short, dark unruly hair. "You can take my horse," he offered.

Mika arched an eyebrow. "You'll let me borrow your horse?"

"Yes."

"I may not be back by dawn. How will you get home?"

"Shinya has a car." _Ah, of course,_ thought Mika. Then Mika said: "How charitable of you."

Hiragi took Mika by the shoulders and gently pushed him against the door jamb, reversing their positions. His eyes glittered emotionlessly in the semidarkness.

"Not really," said Hiragi. Mika was only slightly surprised when Hiragi dropped down to his knees in front of him. There was a slight moment of panic as he felt Hiragi pulling at the row of buttons on his riding breeches. "Hiragi-san-" began Mika. A hand slipped up his chest and a pair of fingers pressed his lips closed.

"Shhhh," hissed Hiragi, silencing him. Mika leaned back against the door jamb as Hiragi pulled out his flaccid member and began to tease him with his tongue, licking along the underside of his shaft. Despite the attention, Mika felt nothing. That's when he closed his eyes and allowed his head to fall back, half remembering, half fantasizing:

 _It was a hot day down by the river and the cargo ships were crawling up and down the blue Mississippi like lazy turtles in their metal shells. The stone wall was digging into his back as Yu rounded the corner, a look of fear and desperation on his face. These emotions dissolved the instant he saw Mika._

" _Mika!"_

 _Mika smiled at him teasingly. "What? You'd thought I'd gone?"_

" _Yes," said Yu, exhaling a sigh of relief._

 _Mika tilted his head back in open invitation. "I waited for you." Yu, his eyes glazed over with obvious desire, grabbed him and kissed him. And continued to kiss him, his hands curving around the sides of his face until three more steamer horns sounded behind the wall at his back. He didn't mind the jagged stone digging into his skin, because the kiss felt so good, so right. It was everything he had ever wanted or dreamed about. It was just Yu and him. Just this moment. It was his and nothing could ever take this away._

" _Yu-chan…" Mika tilted his head back as Yu began to kiss along his jawline, down his neck, and lower still. Yu dropped to his knees in front of him and Mika gasped as the boy pulled open his fly and began kissing him there, in his most secret, sensitive place. Mika pushed his hands through Yu's dark messy hair, letting out a low moan as he felt himself engulfed, devoured. The top of Yu's head bobbed up and down as that warm, wet mouth continued to tease him, to taste him, driving him closer and closer to the finish. Mika's hips began to buck forward, forcing himself even further down Yu's throat, gasping with pleasure as he sank deeper into that warm, delicious tightness, losing himself to pure sensation. "Oh, God-ngh-I'm-"_

"Oh, God-ngh-I'm-" Mika bit his lip and moaned as he shoved himself down Hiragi's throat, his spine going rigid as orgasm hit him in a giant crashing, cresting wave. He continued to dig his hands through the other man's hair, clinging on mostly for support as he felt his legs go wobbly. Hiragi held him up, his hands digging into his ass, even as he sucked down every last drop that Mika had to give. Hiragi's eyes, still as cold and imperious as ever, flicked up to stare at Mika's flushed face and darkened, half mast eyes. He slowly stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he went back to the bed and picked up his shirt, putting it on. Without looking at Mika, he said:

"You can keep the horse."

* * *

Hiragi's horse moved through the night like a black, inky shadow as it slid in and out of the rings of light afforded by the liberally interspersed gas lamps, its hooves clopping softly over the darkened cobblestones of First Street. Mika had his hood up and he angled the horse as far away as he dared from the meager pools of light without going completely off road. He passed one dark mansion after another, peering into each immaculately well kept lawn, looking for a particular landmark. Specifically, a fountain with four seraphs in it.

Mika almost laughed when he realized that the house he was seeking sat directly across from Kureto Hiragi's own overly ornate, column filled Reconstruction era home. Mika very rarely ever ventured out into the district, but as fate would have it, he had actually been inside Hiragi's house before. But only because Hiragi was a bachelor, and only because he would sometimes send a carriage with darkened curtains to the quarter to fetch him. Hiragi had a tendency to turn his nose up at the quarter, calling it 'gauche' and 'flamboyant' and a 'haven for unseemly, illicit behavior'. Truer words had never been spoken. Of all the hypocrites that Mika had ever dealt with, Kureto Hiragi was without a doubt the biggest of them.

 _To think I was this close to you, so often, and you didn't even know it,_ thought Mika. He pulled the reins to the left, angling the horse up the circular drive. The fountain with the four seraphs gurgled pleasantly in the moonlight as a multitude of fireflies flashed and flitted around the edges of the spray. The house itself was dark; it's wide, spacious piazzas silent. The horse clopped to a stop in front of the main steps leading up to the first gallery. Mika was just pondering his next move when suddenly a hazy, flickering light, like the front of an oncoming train, came rushing towards the front door. The door swung open and a young boy with brown cherub-like curls in a white night shirt came running onto the porch, bearing a raised oil lamp.

"Oh, thank God, Yu! You're back-". The boy said in hushed tones and then stopped. He raised the lamp higher, squinting down the steps. "You're...you're not Yu," he said with obvious disappointment.

"No," answered Mika. He dismounted and came and stood within the lamp's lighted circle, pulling the horse along behind him. He didn't take off his hood.

It didn't seem to matter, because recognition dawned in the boy's eyes. "Wait, you're from that...that...place," the boy finished lamely, unable to say the words. Then: "Are you Mika?"

"Yes."

"But then where is Yu? He's supposed to be with you. I can't keep covering for him. It took every excuse in the book just to keep-"

Mika interrupted him. "-you mean he's not here?"

"No, he's not. God, I'm going to be in so much trouble-"

"-I was told Yu had been beaten and was in a coma," said Mika, interrupting him again.

The boy's eyes brightened. "No, no. It's alright now, because he woke up this afternoon." Then his expression turned dark and he said, in a blatantly disapproving tone, "I couldn't make him stay in bed, though. He had to get up and go see you. He wouldn't listen. He's always so stubborn. He said he had to go to the quarter, because he thought you might be in some kind of, I don't know, trouble or something." The boy shook his head. "I don't think he was well enough to go anywhere yet. I mean, what if he passed out on the trolley or something? Or got run over by one of those electric cars? Or fell in the river?"

Mika didn't wait for the boy to finish his fretful speech; he climbed back on his horse and turned it back toward the road. "Don't worry. I'll find him and bring him back," Mika said over his shoulder, his heart pounding uncomfortably in his chest.

"Wait, I'll come with you," called the boy from the porch.

"You'll do no such thing!" Mika hissed at him. The boy blanched, taken aback by his icy response. Mika's eyes softened and he continued in a more reasonable tone: "I know the quarter. You don't. I'll find Yu and bring him back."

The boy tilted his head questioningly at him. Then he said something else, a remark both so astonishingly innocent and at the same time so awkwardly direct, that it made Mika blanch:

"Why are you riding Kureto Hiragi's horse?"

Without answering, Mika urged the horse into a gallop and cantered back down the drive. _Yu, where are you?_ thought Mika. His pulse raced wildly along with the beat of the horse's hooves as he sped back in the direction of the quarter.

"Please be alright," he whispered to himself as he rode off into the cover of night.

* * *

The gray, misty curtains of dawn covered the quarter like a funeral shroud. The trash laden area of Bourbon Street was just settling down to rest, finally retiring after a long night of carousing and debauchery. Opium addicts nodded off in doorways and drunkards staggered away from the now closed pubs, shuffling off into alleyways and lanes and park shrubbery, looking for somewhere to sleep off the night's drink. Hollowed eyed prostitutes patrolled the corners with half-hearted steps, their heavily painted faces grown shiny and runny from the heat, all gleaming and sticky like sugary pools of maple syrup. Smoke rose up from the chimneys and chamber pots full of refuse were tossed carelessly out of second story windows. Mika barely managed to dodge the contents of one of these pots, the owner screaming out a crass warning seconds after upending it onto the streets below. Mika glared up at him from under his hood, his steely eyes staring with disdain at the toothless old man standing in the window. All he got in return were inconsiderate snickers of drunken, soulless laughter.

Mika turned onto a darkened lane off Bourbon, pulling Hiragi's horse-now sans saddle-wearily behind him. The moment he had realized the saddle had Hiragi's family crest etched on it just below the pommel, he had taken it off and thrown it into the river, mentally kicking himself for his lack of discretion. He was sore from riding saddleless and exhausted from having been out all night, and both he and the horse were the worse for wear for it, their mirrored postures bent forward like wind blown reeds as they headed down the darkened, misty side street. The sound of the horse's hooves echoed off the grimy brick walls of the alleyway as the first rays of sunlight marched over the bricks like a pack of determined infantrymen, illuminating and dispersing the last vestiges of night. The morning was gray as soot as Mika walked up to the back of a sagging, rundown Creole townhouse and hammered his fist on its door.

Mika continued to bang his fist on the door until a loud voice shouted from inside: "Alright, wait a minute! Hold your horses! I'm getting there!" The door swung open to reveal a thin, anemic looking man with long straight hair and tired looking kohl rimmed eyes. "Yey, what do you want?" the man asked in an annoyed voice. "It's morning. Business is closed." He started to slam the door shut, but Mika caught it, pushing his way inside.

"Hey, you just can't barge in here-"

"-I was told a boy with black hair and green eyes was brought to this establishment late last night-" said Mika in a loud voice, talking over the other man's protests.

"-I don't know what you're talking about-"

"-about seventeen years old, attractive. Ring any bells-"

"-No-" the other man sneered. "Never set eyes on him."

Suddenly Mika whirled around, grabbing the man by the throat and producing a knife from underneath his cloak. He slammed him against the wall and pressed the blade against the underside of his jaw, digging the tip threateningly into the thin, papery flesh. Mika's blue eyes glittered with unabashed fury as he hissed, "Oh, I think you know exactly what I'm talking about. This boy is no stray. He has a good family out in the district. And if you don't take me to him right now, I'm going to fucking cut you." He jammed the knife further into the skin of the other man's neck until a single line of blood, red like a Bourbon Street hooker's lips, ran down his throat.

The man glared at Mika. "I know you. You're one of Krul Tepes's dogs. What's one of you fancy types doing down on this end of the quarter anyway?"

"I told you. I'm looking for someone." Mika wrenched the man around by the shoulder and pushed him in the direction of a darkened hallway. "Now, take me to him before this gets even nastier." Mika gestured at the man's back with the knife as he slowly led Mika down a brown stained, trash lined hallway. From behind various closed doors, pitiful moans and outright sobbing could be heard. The blood was pounding in Mika's ears as the gaunt looking man led him to the very end of the hallway. He waited, his eyes alert and scanning behind him, as the man pulled out a jangly set of keys and unlocked the door. The door swung open with a protesting, animal groan and the man stepped aside.

"Go on then-take your precious princess. I've more than gotten my money's worth out of him."

Mika snatched away the keys and gave the man another vicious shove. "Get out of here!" he yelled, his trembling lips belying the threat he was making. The man smirked and slowly backed down the hallway, disappearing into the shadows. Then Mika turned and entered the room, and what he saw there completely shattered his hardened composure, causing a cascade of tears to instantly well up in his eyes.

Yu's body, still tied to the rusty metal bed frame, lay bent at an awkward angle. His clothes had been half torn off, and his wrists were bloodied and bruised, with riverlets of dried blood caked along his forearms where he had no doubt tried to free himself from the ropes holding him in place. There was even more blood spread across the dirty bedsheets, the pattern small and red and repeating like the dots in a pointillism painting. Yu's face was pale and waxen and he didn't move, and from where Mika stood, he looked dead. "Yu-chan," the name slipped out in a tremulous whisper from Mika's lips as he cautiously approached the bed. Fury bled away into despair as Mika dropped to his knees at the bedside. Mika reached out a shaky hand to touch the other boy's face. The response was instantaneous:

"Don't touch me," Yu hissed in a barely heard whisper. Mika blinked back tears as Yu's eyes cracked open, the retracted pupils staring unseeing at the water stained wall.

"Yu-chan, it's me. It's Mika," he choked out through barely restrained sobs. Mika suddenly went silent, growing uncommonly still as he noticed a reflection crawling towards him across the base of the lamp sitting on the tiny bedside table. He ducked off to the side, rolling out of the way just in time to dodge the syringe that came arcing down behind him. He jumped up, turning to ram his knee into the stomach of the anemic, long haired man as he fell forward onto the bed. The syringe he was holding clattered and rolled across the floor. His fury rising to the fore, Mika viciously kicked the man in the stomach, over and over again, until he was forced to crawl back across the floor towards the door, cursing and gasping for air.

"-you stupid fucking whore, you may look fancy-"

"-You no good fucking poacher-" Mika raged.

"-but you're just another fucking street thug-"

"-you come near me again and I will fucking kill you-"

"-and that bitch Krul Tepes thinks she owns the quarter, but she-"

"-you goddam child rapist, predatory piece of shit!" Mika stepped on the back of the man's neck with a crushing boot, halting his progress. "What's in that syringe anyway?"

"Mo-morphine," the man rasped. Mika allowed the man to crawl away and he turned and scooped the syringe from the floor, pocketing it. Looking at Yu's face, he had a feeling he might be needing it. Mika then went back to the bed, where he took out his knife and began to viciously hack at the ropes holding Yu in place. Once he had him free, he unclasped his long riding cloak, carefully wrapping the other boy in it. Yu's head lolled back and forth like a broken door hinge, his lips muttering incomprehensible protests. "Come on, Yu. This is not a safe place for us. We have to go," Mika said quietly as he slid his arms around the boy's knees and lifted him from the bed. Mika carried him to the door, kicking it open with his foot as he hurriedly made his way down the hall. Intermittent slithers of light illuminated his tear stained face he moved determinedly forward, holding the broken remnants of the other boy close to him, heading towards the light of the new day.


	10. Eurydice Rising

**Author's Note: The second half of this chapter carries a warning for a whole helping heap of violence. Please read at your own discretion. Also, this is being posted on Saturday instead of the usual Sunday, because someone requested that it go up on their birthday. So happy birthday, nameless one. :)**

Chapter 10:

Eurydice Rising

The windows were shuttered. The curtains were drawn. No light was allowed in. The concept of day was something that existed outside, out there. There was a world somewhere outside his darkened room, but Yu wasn't a part of it. Because the outside was for the living. And he was part of the dead. (Or nearly dead, anyway.) He existed, but that was all. It was the only thing he could do. So he lay there, a wraithlike thing in stasis, breathing shallowly beneath the covers. Curled into himself like a nautilus.

 _Let go of me let go of me let go of me!_ He had lost it earlier that morning, when the doctor had come in to examine him. It took both Kimizuki and Yoichi to hold him down. Took another one of those ugly metal syringes full of dull brown liquid, its silver tip glinting ominously in the light. _Let go of me let go of me let go of me!_ The sight of that syringe had struck terror in him. Had caused him to thrash about like a mental patient. So they had held him down, not realizing that these very actions were what sent his already tormented mind tumbling right back into the middle of that nightmare. To the pain. To the darkness. To the endless violation. Back to those hands that held him down, blocking all hope of escape. Back to a hard, black line that was drawn across the border of his soul, delineating his charmed life of before from the broken thing he was now.

 _Let go of me let go of me let go of me!_ Images played and replayed, like the pages of a child's flip book. They still penetrated his drug hazed mind. Made him twitch with cell memory. _Let go of me let go of me let go of me!_ The only bit of light inside this darkness, the only thing that held any sense of hope for him, was the memory of a distant figure. A figure dressed all in white. A figure, coming out of the gloom, calling to him from a lighted doorway. _Yu-chan, can you hear me? It's me, Mika._ In his delirium, he had called out to that distant figure, saying his name over and over again, until Yoichi was forced to shush him.

 _Mika!_

 _Quiet, Yu. Mika is not here._

 _Mika!_

 _Stop it, Yu. You're ranting again. It's because the laudanum is wearing off. I'll tell Guren; he'll bring the doctor back in._

 _No! Don't! Bring me Mika! Where is Mika?_

 _Shhhhhhhhhh…_

More syringes, more pain. And then: Nothing. Just a blackened void. His mind continued to float somewhere up above. He was detached from the broken shell of his body, a mercy he couldn't comprehend. He floated around like a lost balloon. So small and inconsequential. _Mika, where are you? I can't find you! Mika!_ He tried to block out the thoughts. Block out the persistent memories. But they waited for him out in the dark. Waited like predators with glowing red eyes, with sharpened teeth. He whimpered in the darkness. _No, don't come near!_ Suddenly, there was an intrusive rapping at the door, causing him to flinch.

He didn't answer the knock. He lay there in silence as the door swung on its unoiled hinges, protesting with a drawn out _squeak!_ He heard footsteps cross the floor, approach his bed. Yu's heart began to hammer in his chest. He began to shake, the response both involuntary and vaguely humiliating. He heard the soft _thunk_ of a metal tray as it was placed on his bedside table. He waited, shivering, for the steps to retreat towards the door. They didn't move. Instead, a voice began to speak:

"Yu, I know you don't want to talk about what happened. And I won't push you to speak of it, not until you're ready-"

 _But Guren didn't understand! He would never be ready! Never! He couldn't talk to him. Or Yoichi. Or Kimizuki. They couldn't begin to comprehend it. There was only one person he could talk to, one person who might understand it. But he was so far away; he might as well be in a different world._

"-but I just want you to know, I'm here for you. Whenever you're ready to talk. And I won't judge you for it, I swear, whatever it is-"

 _Liar! There has always been judgement here! Always! It was there, in his voice-in his eyes-on the day he chastised Yu for being seen out in public with Mika. Well, things were different now. Mika and Yu were brothers, after all. In more ways than one. Guren could not judge Mika and not judge Yu, too. Such hypocrisy could not stand. Not in Yu's mind._

"-I want you to feel like you can come to me, talk to me, about anything. Please, Yu, don't shut me out-"

 _That door was shut. It was too late to open it. Too late to go back now. There was no way back from this particular level of hell. From this kind of misery. Mika was right: This was hell and Ferid Bathory was the devil._

"-and don't blame yourself. It's important that you don't think this is your fault-"

 _Oh, but it was Yu's fault. It was definitely all his fault. He did something stupid and now he had to pay for it. And pay and pay and pay. But the thing that was even worse than the pain, even worse than the humiliation, was this: the look of pity on all their faces whenever they looked at him. Guren, Yoichi, Kimizuki. They all had that same look. And Yu couldn't imagine a time in the future when they didn't always look at him like that. Like he was some horrible, broken thing they had failed to fix. It was unbearable. Insurmountable. He couldn't stand it. It made him want to curl up in a ball and die…_

"-I want you to stay strong, Yu. And remember these last words. If you want to ignore everything else I've said so far, then by all means, please do, only don't ignore this one thing-"

Yu rolled onto his side, a barely suppressed sob escaping his throat, tears blurring his vision into a cascading waterfall of nothingness.

"-just live."

* * *

Fireflies flashed and flew like random sparklers through the gloaming as Ferid Bathory walked up the steps to his Prytania Street mansion. He unlocked the front door and stepped inside, stopping only to hang his velvet riding cloak on a garish looking coat rack situated by the front door. He was making his way over to a large curving set of stairs when a flicker of light caught his attention from the corner of his eye, coming from the direction of the dining room. He turned, walking with cautious, quiet steps to the other side of the house, every muscle in his body tense and on alert. He saw a shimmering beam of light, spilling like a trail of molten honey across the hallway floor from the dining room's open French doors. Ferid rounded the corner and stopped just inside the doorway. A large candelabra, ablaze and flickering with at least a dozen white tapered candles, sat in the center of the massive cherrywood dining table. Sitting at the end of the table, his hooded face bathed in the dancing firelight, was Mikaela Hyakuya. His large blue eyes turned to stare at Ferid as he stepped through the door.

"Hello, Ferid," said Mika.

Ferid stepped cautiously forward. "Ah, Mika-chan," he said with his usual arrogant lilt. "What a nice surprise."

"Is it really a surprise?" asked Mika with an arched eyebrow. He uncrossed his legs and slid around in his chair to face Ferid.

Ferid stopped a few paces away, his stance wary. "Of course it is. Since you've always refused to come here in the past."

"But as you can see, I've changed my mind," said Mika evenly. The chair scraped the floor as Mika stood up and started walking towards Ferid. He was slightly surprised when Ferid took a step back from him, putting his back against the doorjamb. Mika smiled at him, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "What's the matter, Ferid? Not happy to see me?"

"I don't know what game you're playing here, Mika, but I-"

Mika closed the space between them in an instant, covering Ferid's lips with his index finger. He leaned in close, whispering huskily next to the nobleman's ear: "I'm not playing any games. I'm way past all of that. But I'm really hurt you're not happy to see me, because I'm overjoyed to see you." Mika then turned his head and pressed his lips to the underside of Ferid's ear, allowing his breath to skim seductively over the sensitive shell of his earlobe. He felt the taller man shiver in response as he continued kissing along the column of his neck, whispering breathily into his ear: "Don't you remember all the good times we had, Ferid? We used to be so good together, once. Perhaps you need me to remind you just _how_ good?" Mika allowed his hands to skim down the front of Ferid's chest as he slowly slipped down to his knees in front of him, his sapphire blue eyes shining up at the nobleman in blatant invitation, a sensuous half smile lingering on his face. Drawn in by that tempting look, as well as by the creeping, carefully stroking fingers that were currently working at his belt, Ferid reached down to cup the young boy's face in his hands, gently caressing his messy blond locks. "I see you've finally come to your senses," Ferid muttered to himself as he leisurely and blissfully tilted his back, enjoying the movement of the boy's hands and the sudden rush of warm air on his bare skin. The feelings of elation quickly evaporated as he felt an unexpected, painful sting in his right leg.

Ferid shoved Mika away from him. He fell back on the hardwood floor, his face staring up at Ferid with glittery eyed triumph. "What do you think you're doing, you manipulative little-" Ferid's sentence stopped short as he noticed the empty syringe sticking out of his thigh. He plucked the offending object from his flesh and flung it across the floor. "You little bitch," Ferid hissed, advancing on him.

Mika was already up and had his sword drawn. His eyes sparked with pure fury as he waited for Ferid to move in on him. "Come on, lover, don't you want to dance with me one more time?" he spat coldly as Ferid paused and drew his own sword.

"Stupid Mika-chan. You think you can beat me with your deceptive little tricks." Ferid swung his blade at Mika, who dodged around to the other side of the dining room table. Mika glared at Ferid through the golden haze of the candelabra. "Maybe I can," Mika said through gritted teeth. "If I level the playing field just a little bit more." With a swipe of his sword, Mika sent the candelabra flying, the lit candles falling and rolling over the shiny cherrywood surface like a set of flammable bowling pins. The silk table runner instantly went up in flames and a trail of fire began to lick its hot, shimmery tongue down the sides of the table. Ferid's eyes widened with genuine fear for the first time that night.

"You really have lost your mind," announced Ferid, his words slurring a bit as he moved around the table towards Mika.

Mika continued to smile at him coldly. "You're not leaving this house alive, Ferid. One way or another, you're a dead man." Enraged, Ferid flew at him, his blade barely missing him as Mika parried the attack. Steel clashed on steel as the table behind them went up in flames and the fire began to creep its way like a slow, persistent slug across the hardwood floors. Mika could tell the morphine was just starting to kick in, as it was interfering with Ferid's normally superior strength and reach. It made all his passes sloppy and slow. Mika, enraged beyond all reason, started bearing down on him, driving him back towards the hallway, pressing him back through the open French doors. Behind them, the whole dining room became engulfed in flames.

"You just couldn't fucking help yourself, could you?" hissed Mika in a low, angry voice. "You just had to do the one thing- _take_ _the one thing_ -that I couldn't live without. Well, I hope you're happy, Ferid, because you got me here, just where you wanted me-"

"-You crazy bitch. What do you mean to do, kill us both-"

"-and now you're as good as dead. You were dead the moment you laid hands on him. You pedophile, rapist piece of shit-"

"-If you don't stop this, you're going to bring this whole house down on both our heads-"

"-I don't care! You've pushed me way past caring! I hope it does come down on our fucking heads. I'll laugh as it happens!"

Ferid gave a final guttural roar and rushed at Mika. Their two swords connected, the metal glinting in the raging firelight, as Ferid pressed Mika back onto the stairs. Mika's hands trembled with the effort of keeping Ferid at bay, his back bent at an almost ninety degree angle as the nobleman pushed him down towards the floor. Ferid spat in his face over the top his blade:

"Like I said before, Mika. You're not strong enough to beat me. You've _never_ been strong enough-" The words died instantly on Ferid's tongue as a crack of what sounded like thunder rang out. His eyes widened with surprise as he looked down to see the barrel of his own revolver jammed into his stomach. Blood cascaded out of the newly made wound, leaking over the pristine white of Mika's riding outfit, staining both it and the floor a dark, viscous red. Mika smiled up at him icily and said:

"I found the little trinket you left for me back at the house, lover. I have to say, it was the best present you ever gave me."

Ferid choked and listed forward, grabbing and holding onto Mika in a twisted parody of a lover's embrace. "You murderous little bitch," Ferid rasped by his ear before taking his sword and plunging it in Mika's side. Mika's head snapped back in agony, his eyes gone wide as Ferid laughed bitterly over him, bloodied spittle falling on his face. "Guess we're both not leaving this house, little jewel. It's so sweet of you, wanting to die in my arms like this."

"Get. Off. Of. Me." Mika twisted beneath Ferid, pushing against his weight, flailing in panic as the fire crept closer to the stairs. Ferid continued to stubbornly cling on to him, even as his life's blood leaked out over the floor, the stain spreading like a pair of shiny butterfly wings. Firelight danced over Mika's pale, sweat stained face, turning it a bright yellow-gold as he tried to crawl up the stairs, away from Bathory's grasp. He was covered in blood, both his and Bathory's, and the smoke was choking the air out of his lungs. Fire crept across the ceiling, dancing along the plaster, penetrating its surface with a threatening _Crack!_ Pieces of the house started to fall as Mika collapsed back against the steps, his eyes staring blankly upwards as he felt his strength starting to leave him. "Yu-chan.." he said to himself, watching as the hypnotic, undulating trails of fire shimmied like individual fireflies across the ceiling overhead.

"Dying together. Like this. You and me…" Mika heard Ferid mutter into his stomach as his vision started to blur. Mika closed his eyes, and the last thing he heard was a loud crash as another piece of the ceiling detached and fell, the heavy plaster hitting the ground like lit shrapnel and exploding all around them...


	11. Wayfaring Stranger

**Author's Note: I would like to take a moment to once again thank all my loyal reviewers on this story. Your words are a great motivator and reading them means a lot to me. You have no idea how much. So I say again: Thank you! Also, we are now entering the third act of this tale, and I'm kind of sad it's nearing the finish because it has been such a joy to write. I don't think I've had this much fun writing a story since my very first fan fic. and I sincerely hope you all have gotten as much pleasure from reading it as I have from writing it (though I somehow doubt this is true). As always, please leave a review with your thoughts at the end...**

Chapter 11:

Wayfaring Stranger

Yu's furtive steps reflected his hesitant nature as he turned the corner onto Ursuline Street. The area was as beautiful as it always was: the lane still elegantly lined with tall Creole townhouses outfitted with large, wrought iron balconies, their roofs covered with rainbow colored Spanish tile like icing sitting on top of an array of bakery cupcakes. As he walked with his head down, skirting away from other pedestrians on the street, he felt his mind jerked back to several nights ago. The night Ferid Bathory had attacked him and taken him from this very sidewalk.

 _Well, well-Yuichiro Hyakuya. What an unexpected surprise…_

Yu shook his head, willing the memory of that terrible voice away. _I don't have to be afraid of Ferid Bathory anymore,_ he thought to himself. _That man is dead. He can't hurt anyone ever again._

The Garden District had talked of nothing but Lord Bathory's unexpected death over the course of the last few days. The news had traveled hot and fast like the August heat, leaving everyone to ponder and whisper their theories about all the mysterious juicy details. The entirety of Ferid's Prytania Street mansion had gone up in flames, burned to a cinder, until all that stood was the crumbling exoskeleton of the giant spiral staircase and half of the eastern wall. The ignorant all thought it was an unfortunate accident. Those in the know, who regularly crossed the borders between the district and the quarter, who had private dealings out there, thought differently. They all knew of Lord Ferid's torrid love affair with a certain French Quarter prostitute, who had also mysteriously vanished on the night his mansion had burned down. They all knew of the animosity, the heated conflict between the two; it had been going on for years. Well, these people in the know whispered behind the safety of closed doors that the prostitute-infamous now for more than just his profession-had finally retaliated against Lord Bathory and had murdered him and burned down his house. Others thought it was a murder/suicide, that Bathory, finally driven mad by years of jealousy, had killed them both. Still others thought the prostitute had killed Bathory and skipped town with all his money, laughing all the way to Europe. Whispers in parlors and churches and coffee shops turned bloodthirsty and lurid with all the possible outcomes. There were so many different versions of the tale flying about now, that no one was sure anymore what was fact and what was fiction.

Yu, ever since he'd come out of his drug filled haze, had asked about Mika daily. Yoichi had admitted that he had actually come looking for him at the house on that horrible night. Ever since then, Yu had pressed Yoichi for news, hoping beyond hope that Mika would come back. That by some miracle he would be allowed entrance into Guren's house. It was the only thing that kept Yu going, the only thing that finally got him out of bed and on his feet again. It was this hope that allowed him to finally throw open the shutters of his room and let in the light.

Now, after building up his nerve over the last several days, Yu finally dared to enter the boundaries of the quarter once more. His was bent on finding Mika. His body, heart and soul were all fixated on him. _Please don't be true please don't be true please don't be true,_ he thought as he approached the tall pillars bordering the front door of the House of the Rising Sun. Yoichi had related all the rumors about Ferid's death to him; everything he had heard out in the schoolyard and on the trolleys and in the cafes. _Please don't be true please don't be true please don't be true!_ A lot of these rumors seemed certain of Mika's death, but Yu refused to believe it. The moment he felt well enough to venture out into the world again, he resolved to go to the Rising Sun to find out the actual truth.

Yu banged on the front door and waited. After a few ticks it opened a crack to reveal the same red haired man that had taken him up to Mika's room on the first night he came to the house. The man smiled slyly as he threw open the door. "Well, well," said the red haired man. "I didn't expect to see you back here."

Yu couldn't help the glare that covered his face. The man still had that sly, knowing grin, and Yu wondered uncomfortably just how much this man knew about him and his current situation. Yu walked past him into the foyer. "I'm looking for Mikaela Hyakuya," he announced stonily.

"There's no one here by that name," the man answered with a condescending lilt.

"I know that Mika works in this house-" began Yu.

"-I'm sorry, dear boy," said the red haired man with what seemed to be actual compassion in his eyes. He turned and leaned against the front door, watching Yu. "No one's seen Mika-chan since that night." Yu noticed the red haired man didn't bother to specify which night. "But, of course, you already knew that," the man added without inflection.

Yu stared down at the exotic pattern on the floor runner. "Are you sure? Are you sure no one's seen-"

"-I'm sure," the man answered before Yu could finish. "I have a lot of...friends in both the quarter and the district. There's been no report of him…" The man let his sentence drift off as he watched Yu slowly collapsed against the hallway wall. He rushed forward, grabbing his shoulders to keep him from sliding to the floor. "Hey, are you okay?" The man asked. Yu, flinching at the unexpected contact, squirmed away.

"Don't...do that," Yu said in an almost inaudible voice. It had been less than a week since the night Bathory had kidnapped him, and he still couldn't bear to be touched by another human being. It set his heart to trip hammering in his chest and made his entire body break out in a cold sweat. His hands visibly shook even as he tried to calm himself.

"Uh, sorry, I should have been more careful," the man muttered by way of apology. Yu's head jerked up. _Ah, he knows,_ thought Yu, the sad, pitying look on the red haired man's face confirming all his suspicions. Yu was about to turn and leave when a feminine voice called to him from down the hallway:

"Is that Yuichiro Hyakuya? Crowley, stop being rude and bring the young gentleman in here!"

Crowley's left eyebrow jerked up at this request. "Of course, Krul," Crowley called back down the entryway. Crowley swept past Yu, motioning him down the hall. "The madam of the house would like to speak with you," he said tonelessly.

Crowley opened a door and ushered Yu into what appeared to be a small, well kept office. There was a mahogany desk against one wall, and a small settee with coffee table against the other. A petite woman with delicate, porcelain features was currently sitting at the desk, scribbling notes into a leather ledger. She put down her pen and raised her head as Yu stepped inside.

"Ah, Yu Hyakuya. You're the one who's cost me so much business."

Yu just blinked, not understanding the accusation. Before he could ask her to elaborate, she began speaking again.

"How does it feel to have a man so in love with you that he would brutally murder someone in your name?"

Yu's mouth gaped open. "I...I didn't…"

Krul regarded him coldly. "Please don't say you didn't love him in return, because that, in my opinion, would just be an even greater tragedy."

Yu shifted uncomfortably, caught off guard by the Queen's bluntness. Finally, he said, "I do love him. I do. More than anything in the world. I just wish…" And here Yu trailed off, angrily swiping at the tears that were starting to come unbidden to his eyes.

Krul's icy demeanor seemed to temporarily melt, if only for an instant. "Unfortunately, Ferid and Mika were always a combination set to combust. I just didn't expect it to happen quite so...literally." She turned and began to rummage through the papers on her desk. She pulled out an envelope and handed it to Yu. He looked at it with a questioning face. "What's this?"

"A receipt. For passage on a ship leaving from New Orleans. I found it in Mika's room." When Yu just continued to stare quizzically at the envelope, she went on, smiling her knowing, sphinx like smile:

"I'm the mistress of the French Quarter, Hyakuya. I know everything- _everything_ -that happens in this town. And my Mika was a clever boy. He would not have stayed here after murdering a nobleman in cold blood. He was...a strategist, or rather a pragmatist, in all things." When Yu said nothing, she added:

"Don't lose hope yet, Hyakuya. The end port of call is listed on that receipt. Keep it. But don't speak of it. Because they hang prostitutes who murder their Johns in this town." The Queen turned back to her desk, and Yu felt like he had just been summarily dismissed. He turned and walked out of the office, shuffling with ghostlike steps back down the hall toward the front door.

"Oh, and Hyakuya," called Krul, speaking once again in her usual sly, commanding lilt. "Do let me know if you get tired of your life out there in the district. I have an empty room upstairs. I could turn you out in an instant…"

Ignoring that parting jab, Yu carefully tucked the envelope Krul had given him inside his vest, placing it over his heart.

* * *

 _Charleston, South Carolina_

The steamer ship had docked in the port of Charleston early that morning, her horns blaring out her arrival over the blue sparkling water of the harbor. The August sun beat down mercilessly on the wooden dock as its passengers filed down the gangplank: families with small children, salty old sea dogs, dock workers in flat caps, and finally, one young blond haired boy, wrapped in a great black coat, who exited alone. His steps were wobbly as he walked down the plank, his expression pained as he squinted into the early morning sun. He paused, wrapping the coat tighter around him despite the humid weather, staring up at a flight of seagulls that were circling overhead. After a moment, he started staggering along the dock, moving along the waterline, until he came to the wooden benches and large umbrellas and elaborate gushing fountain that marked the beginning of Charleston's beautiful Waterfront Park boardwalk. Ladies with lace trimmed parasols promenaded the planks with men in black bowler hats as a lone street musician played on an old wood cut guitar.

 _I am a poor wayfaring stranger_

 _Traveling through this world alone_

 _There is no sickness, toil, or danger_

 _In that fair land to which I go_

 _I know dark clouds will hover o'er me_

 _I know my pathway is rough and steep_

 _But golden fields lie out before me_

 _Where weary eyes will no more weep_

 _I'm just going home to see my mother_

 _I'm going home, no more to roam_

 _I am just going over Jordan_

 _I am just going over home..._

Mika stumbled over a warped plank and caught himself on the wooden handrail bordering the walk. The intense heat had his vision spinning and his head was throbbing in a way that made it hard for him to concentrate. He held onto the rails and tried to stand, but found that his knees had other plans for him. They buckled, giving way, as he slumped perilously toward the ground.

The music suddenly stopped with a errant _T_ _wang!_ "Hey! Are you okay?" said a young man's voice. A shadow fell across Mika's unnaturally pale face. He looked up to see the street musician, a young man in rolled shirtsleeves and open vest sporting long brown hair tied back in a high ponytail, staring down at him with concerned eyes. Mika let go of the rails and the musician yelled out, "Hey!" before catching him under his arms. The other boy's eyes widened when he saw all the dried blood covering Mika's clothes underneath the black coat. "Oh, shit," he muttered.

"It's not all mine," Mika murmured before completely passing out in the stranger's arms.

* * *

Mika woke to the sounds of crockery being banged about. He opened his eyes and found himself lying across a short, lumpy mattress that was flat on the ground. He grew a little concerned when he realized that most of his clothes were gone and his shirt was open. He slid a hand up his side, only to discovered a fresh bandage over the place where his wound was. His nose twitched. "Why do I smell like alcohol?" he croaked.

"Because that's all I had for disinfectant," answered a voice from across the room. Mika struggled into a sitting position and found himself staring across at the long haired street musician from the boardwalk. He was sitting in a rickety wooden chair at a table that had pieces missing from it. A bottle of gin sat on the table, which the young man picked up and took a swig from. "Sorry, it's all I had. Went and got it from the bar downstairs." He raised the bottle in mock salute and took another drink.

Mika looked around at the small, threadbare room. All it contained was the ruined table, a pair of chairs, the mattress, a sink, a guitar, and a set of cupboards. It was tiny and claustrophobic. "We're at a bar?" asked Mika groggily.

"I live above the bar. An Irish bar," said the musician, making a sour face as if he didn't quite approve of his own living arrangements. "I also live across from a couple who like to regularly hit the pipe, if you know what I mean. Gets kinda loud sometimes." When Mika didn't respond to this, the young man said, "I'm Narumi, by the way."

"I'm Mika." He paused, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at the other man. "Why are you helping me?"

The long haired boy leaned back in his chair and shrugged nonchalantly. "You looked like you needed help, so I helped..." He trailed off, staring into space. After a moment, he said, "Uh, can I ask you something?"

Mika rubbed tiredly at his eyes. "Sure," he croaked.

"Right before you passed out, you said, and I quote, 'all this blood isn't mine.' Care to elaborate on that?" It was now Narumi's turn to look at Mika with narrowed, suspicious eyes.

Mika just stared at the other boy. Then he said, as if it were of no more consequence than a simple comment on the weather: "I just murdered the man who raped me when I was thirteen."

Narumi froze. Then he carefully picked up a glass and poured some gin into and slid it across the table in Mika's direction. "Here, I think you need this more than me," he muttered to himself.

Mika got up and walked over to the table, sliding down into the chair across from Narumi. He picked up the glass of gin and downed it in one go. "He did a lot of other things, too," offered Mika quietly. "But that was the start of it."

"Sounds like a real piece of shit who got what was coming to him then," said Narumi pointedly. Mika turned his head, staring off at the one window in the room, it's broken panes half covered with a bedsheet. After a few moments of silence, Mika turned back to Narumi and said, "Where am I, exactly?"

Narumi arched an eyebrow at him. "You don't remember? You're in Charleston, South Carolina."

Mika closed his eyes and nodded, remembering. "And can you tell me where the richest neighborhood is located?"

"The richest?" pondered Narumi. "Oh, well, that would be Battery Park, just South of Broad."

"And the best shopping district?"

"King Street. We're currently on Market. Runs perpendicular. Why are you asking me all this?"

Mika looked at Narumi blankly. "Because I need to land on my feet. And fast. I also need a plan of attack. So first, I'm going to take what money I have left on me and buy a new suit of clothes. A really good suit, from this King Street you just mentioned. It would be great if you showed me the way. And then, after I'm sure I'm looking like a million bucks, I'm going to go out to this, uh, what did you call it, Battery something-"

"-Battery Park," said Narumi. "It's right on the water. Has the best view in all of Charleston. Has all the rich mansions, too."

"I'm going to go out to Battery Park and try to find myself a decent mark."

Narumi crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Are you talking about-" Narumi left off, giving Mika a chance to refute what he was about to say. When Mika just smiled at him, Narumi said. "Hustling. You're talking about hustling."

"Yes."

"I play in the park regularly. There's already a lot of that going on down there."

"Oh, good, so you're knowledgeable about the area and what goes on there. Excellent. Your intel will prove invaluable."

"Intel? Mark? Plan of attack?" Narumi snorted. "You make this sound like some kind of military operation you're running here."

"It's pretty much the same concept," replied Mika pointedly. "I just need a good opening, and to make some rich, decent connections-"

"-and then what?"

Mika smiled at him, but the smile didn't hold any warmth. "And then...I'm going to burn through this Battery the same way General Sherman burned through Atlanta…"


	12. Ambition in the Dirt

**Author's note: This chapter carries a warning for graphic sexual situations. Please read at your own discretion.**

Chapter 12:

Ambition in the Dirt

 _Charleston, South Carolina_

Two weeks had passed and Mika was still living in Narumi's tiny flat up above the Irish pub. He knew he was only allowed to stay there because Narumi felt sorry for him, especially after Mika flat out told him he didn't have anywhere to go and knew absolutely no one else in town. The room itself was an absolute hell hole, cramped and filthy and noisy beyond all measure (mostly because of the drug addicts next door), but the two of them managed to work out a comfortable routine together. They would get up, go to the city market, and buy sausages for breakfast. After that, they would head to either the boardwalk or the battery, where Narumi would play guitar and sing in the parks for money while Mika prowled around seeking out rich men who might prove to be suitable 'marks'. At this point they would usually part ways for several hours, only coming back together late in the evening for dinner, which was usually a shared shepherd's pie and cheap beer from the pub below. Narumi didn't seem too upset to have suddenly inherited a new flatmate, and Mika was still perturbed over the fact that Narumi didn't seem to want anything from him in return for his generosity. Such a situation was utterly foreign to him. People always wanted something from him. That was the one hard and fast rule of Mika's life and he felt (happily) caught off guard by Narumi's selfless actions.

The bedsheet covering the broken window panes had fallen off sometime during the night and a cold, blustery wind, unusual for August, swept through the the room like a passing freight train. Mika sat up on the stained mattress, shivering beneath the threadbare sheet in his thin white nightshirt. He rubbed at his eyes, and noticed Narumi was already up and dressed and sitting at the table with the large chunk missing from it. Narumi had recently told him that the table used to be inside the pub, but some drunken patron had gone and blown off a sizeable piece of it with a handgun, and rather than having them chuck it out on the street, Narumi had claimed it for himself.

Narumi was drinking a glass of beer and scanning through one of the papers that Mika had picked up from a street hawker. Mika always read the society pages, memorizing names and addresses, as a form of 'research'. Their early morning calm was suddenly broken up by a loud banging at their door, with a voice screeching out from the other side, "Oi, Narumi! Where's my rent? I'm not waiting another week! You're already behind!"

"Sod off!" Narumi yelled at the closed door. A loud _bang!_ ensued as the door was thrown open on its ancient hinges. Jimmy, the man who owned the bar-and subsequently, the rooms upstairs-came stomping in, a dirty apron tied around his bulging waist.

"You! You owe me some money and I want you to either pay up or-" The man stopped short as he noticed Mika sitting on the mattress. He stared at Mika just a tick too long before turning to Narumi, saying, "So you're hiding stowaways up in here now?"

Narumi snorted. "Stowaways? This isn't a ship, Jimmy." Narumi didn't even bother to put his paper down as he spoke. Jimmy's head swiveled back in Mika's direction. Mika watched him as he slowly moved over to the mattress, the bar owner's dark, beady eyes staring down at him with obvious interest. Mika tilted his head and arched an eyebrow, allowing his knees to fall apart just slightly. The movement drew the other man's gaze like a magnet. Mika continued to hold the man's tense, burrowing stare, his cold blue eyes dead and unwavering despite the rest of his body language. Finally Mika said:

"Get out, Narumi."

Narumi lowered his paper. "What?"

"I said, get out," Mika repeated.

"Are you joking?"

"No."

Narumi merely looked perplexed, not understanding the situation. "What the hell, Mika?"

"You should listen to your friend," said Jimmy in a low voice. His eyes were trained greedily on Mika as he spoke.

Rolling his eyes, Mika said, "I'm about to settle your rent."

The paper fell to the table and Narumi's mouth gaped open like a banked fish. He jumped up, jabbing a finger in both Jimmy and Mika's direction. "No!" he said in protest. "No. No. No. I'm not standing for this-"

"-so you're going to pay me my money then?" interrupted Jimmy.

Narumi's face fell. "Uh, no. I don't have it."

"So you wanna live on the street?" asked Jimmy.

"No," Narumi admittedly quietly. He glared past Jimmy at Mika, who was furiously motioning him away. Finally, he grabbed his guitar and stomped over to the door. "To hell with both of you!" he grumbled, pulling the door closed on its rickety hinges behind him. Mika could hear him stomping angrily all the way down the stairs. He then turned his face back up to Jimmy. "About this rent…"

"He's three weeks behind," said Jimmy, licking his lips and kicking Mika's ankles apart with the tip of his shoe. He knelt down on the edge of the mattress, between Mika's knees, staring him intently in the face. Then he cocked his head to the side and said, "What's someone like you doing in this awful shithole?"

Mika tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you look like an angel that got dropped in the wrong place." Mika threw his head back and laughed at this statement. Then, sensing that this would be a good time to take control of the situation, Mika sat up and pushed Jimmy down on the mattress, switching their positions. He crawled over the bar owner's legs, straddling his ample waist. He slowly leaned down over the other man, until their faces were mere inches apart. "So you really think I'm an angel?" he asked in a low and decidedly unangelic voice. The man reached up a trembling hand to touch to Mika's face. His pupils had grown dark and Mika could see the vein in his neck throbbing, pulsing in and out like a ribbiting toad. Mika sat back up, skirting out from under his touch. "About that rent…" Mika said again, bringing the conversation back around to its original subject.

"Fine," said Jimmy in a shaky, strained voice. "I'll consider those three weeks cleared."

Mika leaned forward again, undulating his hips slightly. He wasn't wearing anything under the white nightshirt that covered him to his knees, a fact that became readily apparent as Jimmy slid his hands beneath it to grasp him around his hips. "That's fine. But what about the next three weeks?" said Mika.

Jimmy blinked stupidly, all rational thought fleeing as his blood left his brain and started working its way south. "What about it?"

"Well, I was thinking you might let us slide on that, too."

"What makes you think I'd do that?"

Mika leaned across the bar owner, nuzzling along his unshaven jaw line. "Because," said Mika in a breathy whisper next to his ear, "I'm going to ride you so hard your knees are going to buckle and your eyes are going to roll up in the back of your head and you're going to have to crawl out of this room…"

"Jesus fucking Christ!" gasped the bar owner, his eyes bugging out of his head. Mika moved his hips again, grinding against the other man. Jimmy's heels were digging into the floor as Mika pushed up his apron and began pulling open his fly. His hardness was readily visible through his cheap linen pants. Mika paused at the last button. "So we have a deal then?"

Jimmy's head bobbed up and down like an arctic seal's. "Yey, whatever you want, just-" Jimmy's hips bucked upward and Mika pulled down his fly, allowing his leaking, weeping cock to spring free. Mika then spit on his hand and began working it up and down the shaft, coating it, watching disinterestedly as the other man threw his head back and moaned loudly. He then climbed back on top of him, reaching around to press the head of Jimmy's cock inside his hole, bracing himself for what he knew was going to be a rough entrance. He was okay with it though, because Mika calculated that he had about five minutes of this before Jimmy was done and spent, and then he could get on with the rest of his day. Mika tensed, hissing out a pained gasp as he slowly and painfully began to work the bar owner's cock inside of him. It hurt like hell, but he'd be damned if he let the other man know it. He worked himself up and down, quickening his pace, until things started moving along and the bar owner was thrashing and bucking up into him with animal abandon. Jimmy grabbed Mika's hips, roughly shoving him back down on his cock. Mika let out a moan that was more pain than pleasure, but there was no way for Jimmy to know that, and he continued vocalizing his discomfort, allowing him to believe it was something else, since the sounds only seemed to spur the other man closer to orgasm.

"Oh...sweet Jesus...I'm…" Jimmy grabbed Mika by the waist, slamming into him one last, drawn out time before he was completely spent. The bar owner then fell back on the mattress, panting. He lay there for some time, gulping down air, not even noticing when Mika got up and walked away from him. Mika went over to the one cupboard in the room and began pulling out the clothes he was going to wear for the day. He nonchalantly pulled his nightshirt over his head and tossed it to the floor, stepping into his pants and shimmying them on. He got completely dressed and even had time to stop and finish off the beer that Narumi had left sitting on the table before going. Jimmy was still lolling on his mattress. Mika walked out the door, calling over his shoulder in a low, insinuating voice:

"I'll see you later, Jimmy. Remember what I said about having to crawl out of this room."

* * *

"You're a complete and utter asshole, you know that?"

This was Narumi's greeting to Mika as he joined him on a bench just outside the city market. The stalls had just started to open up, with people hauling various goods in wooden crates back and forth from delivery carts, unpacking and setting up their stations for the day's business. One woman was hanging a bright array of silk scarves from hooks on a makeshift clothesline; they waved and floated on the breeze like broken pieces of rainbow in the early morning sun. Cooking smells wafted from the open food stalls and horses clopped slowly by, dragging heavily burdened carts behind them. Kids in flat caps hawked the morning newspapers, which men in smart looking three piece suits stopped to buy. Mika said nothing, just sat there watching all the bustling activity around him. He pulled out a large wad of money and slapped it into Narumi's palm. Narumi's eyes bulged at the amount. "Jesus."

"I'm thinking in about, oh, three weeks from now, we need to look into upgrading our living situation," said Mika.

Narumi just stared at him with his mouth hanging open. He swallowed and said, "Mika, if you had this much money on you, then why did you…" Narumi turned his head, letting the sentence awkwardly trail off.

"Because I didn't want to give it to him! I'm saving up for a new place and I'm working on a schedule and I'm not getting held up because of him." Narumi still wouldn't look at him. Mika reached over and tugged on Narumi's sleeve. "It was five minutes, Narumi! Five minutes and now we're golden for the next three weeks." Mika slumped back against the bench. "I'm sorry you don't approve of my negotiation tactics," Mika added.

Narumi looked at him. "It's not that. I don't care what you do, Mika. I don't judge how anybody chooses to survive out here. But it was my room-"

"-so?"

Narumi raked his hands through his long hair in frustration. "So, it was _my_ room. And when you...when you paid for it like that, it kind of made me feel like I was your pimp or something."

Mika scoffed at that. "You're not my 'pimp'. I'm done with pimps. And just in case you haven't noticed, I've also been living in that room. And maybe, just maybe, it was time for me to actually contribute something to it. It was my choice to do it, so don't worry about it, okay?"

Narumi just stared at the ground, hugging his guitar between his knees. "And what did you mean by 'we'?"

"Huh?"

"You said _we_ should see about upgrading _our_ living situation. Did you mean you wanted me to come along with you? Because I don't pull near the amount of money you do busking the boardwalk, and when I do, I end up frittering it all away on booze and shepherd's pie."

Mika smiled at this summation. "No...I like having a roommate." Then he slid around on the bench to look at Narumi seriously. "You know, you're the first person who's ever been nice to me without wanting anything in return. And I...I kind of like having a friend that I don't have to hide things from. So if you want to cover the booze and shepherd's pie, I'll cover the rent and we'll just call it even, yes?"

Narumi laughed at that, reaching up to smooth the wayward pieces of hair that framed his face. "Shepherd's pie, booze and rent. Sounds like a great title for a song."

"So write it," said Mika. Narumi smiled even brighter, pulling his guitar from between his knees and strumming a few notes from it. Then he stopped, a serious expression covering his face. He looked at Mika and said:

"Why are you in such a hellbent hurry to do all this, anyway?"

Mika's brows drew together questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"You said you were on a schedule. That you wouldn't have anyone slow you down. What exactly are you working towards? It's like...it's like you're desperately trying to reach some goal, but I don't know what it is-"

"-I'm going to go home someday," Mika interrupted him quietly, staring off into space, into a world that Narumi couldn't see. A world filled with magnolia trees and powdered sugar beignets and coffee with chicory and narrow townhouses with lacy, wrought iron balconies. "I'm going home someday and when I do, I have to be an independent man. I have to have means. I can't walk in there with any...with any kind of entanglements." The two boys both stared morosely at the ground. Then Mika added softly:

"I left something behind there. And I plan on getting it back..."

* * *

 _New Orleans, Louisiana_

Yu walked up to the heavy wooden door, took a deep breath, and knocked. Seconds went by before a deep male voice finally called out: "Enter!" Bracing himself for the conversation ahead, Yu turned the doorknob and stepped across the threshold.

Yu paused and stood just inside the doorway, quietly waiting for his presence to be acknowledged. Guren's eyes eventually flicked up from the ramshackle stack papers that covered his desk, his typically stern, condescending expression melting away the moment he saw Yu standing there. The relationship between the two of them had been strained to breaking over the past several weeks, as Yu continued to keep all the details of what had happened to him out in the quarter to himself, revealing absolutely nothing. He could feel Guren's concerned eyes following him around the house, watching him intently for some sign of distress. For a sign that he might, at any moment, suddenly break and revert back to the babbling, raving mental patient he'd been on the night that Mika had brought him back to the house. And despite his near perfect behavior over the last month, Yu could sense the wariness, an underlying tension in the air whenever the two of them were in a room together. He made Guren nervous. His presence in the house caused conflict. It was an untenable situation, and it was one one he was about to remedy.

An uncomfortable silence passed, then Guren motioned for Yu to take the chair in front of his desk. Yu walked forward and sat down. Guren looked at him and waited for him to speak. Finally Yu said:

"It's almost the end of term. I'm going to be turning eighteen in a few weeks. I've decided what I want to do next," he said without preamble.

Guren's eyebrow shot up. He obviously wasn't expecting this type of conversation. He placed both hands flat on the desk in front of him and leaned back in his chair. "And that is?" Guren prompted him.

"I want to attend the Citadel," Yu announced flatly.

He could see the obvious surprise on Guren's face. "The Citadel is the hardest, most rigidly strict military school in the entire country," Guren pointed out.

"Yes," Yu answered.

"The discipline is hard. Especially for new cadets," added Guren.

"Yes."

"It's a long way from here. All the way up in Charleston, South Carolina."

Yu's eyes revealed nothing. "I know."

Guren rubbed a gloved hand over his face. "Well, if you're sure this is the course you want your life to take-"

"-it is," Yu interrupted, finally smiling slightly. Yu then stood up from his chair. As he turned to leave, he said, without turning back around, "Thank you, sir."

"For what?"

"For...for helping me to reach my goal."


	13. Rag Time

**Author's Note: This chapter carries a warning for violence. Also, in answer to the question "How can you update so fast?" There are two reasons: 1. I've stayed consistently 2-3 chapters ahead of what I actually post. I used to post as I write, but found this way to be a lot less stressful (especially if a chapter needs another pass or a rewrite) and 2. I'm working from an outline. So there was no chance of getting stuck or meandering off plot or abandoning this fic. at any time (a very frustrating experience for the reader-I know). Again, this way is a lot less stressful. But hey, that's enough about me and my writing methods-let's get on with the story, shall we?**

Chapter 13:

Rag Time

 _5 months later..._

Twilight fell hard and fast and the moon rose all bright and bulbous, hanging like a round paper lantern in the wine colored sky. A January wind whipped through the corridor of Broad Street, whistling an errant tune as it went, raking its icy claws across the trees and stones like a prowling feral cat. Yu hurried along the cobbled walkway, hugging himself with his arms, cursing himself for not bringing a coat. The frigid air cut through his dark military uniform like a knife, and his breath hung out before him like a column of smoke. He had not meant to stay out so late this far south of Broad, but he had found himself toiling aimlessly around Charleston's famous battery, whiling away his time as he watched a pod of dolphins leaping along the foamy water, sitting and watching their graceful, ballet like movements from a set of stone steps while he ate crusty biscuits he had bought from a food cart. The last biscuit he had pulled apart and fed to some seagulls that were hovering near the shore. Then he'd gotten up and wandered along the edge of the water, walking all the way to Battery Park, where he had stopped to rest under a large oak tree. But rest soon turned into sleep, and he had napped there under the trees for at least an hour, and when he'd finally awakened, the sun was already dipping well below the water line like a listing, sinking ship. Brushing himself off, he had gotten up and started making his way back across town. He had several miles to go before he got back to his barracks and the icy wind hurried his feet along, pushing him into a near jog.

Yu's ears perked up as he neared a noisy pub, the light spooling out of its open doorway like threads of warm gold creeping across the cold bricks. A wooden sign on metal hinges above swung back and forth in the wind, proclaiming it to be the Blind Tiger. Laughter and music emanated from the open doorway, and Yu found himself pausing before its entrance, the bone chilling cold and his rumbling, empty stomach tempting him closer to the pub's invitingly warm interior. He hesitated at the threshold. Yu had never been into a bar in his life. But, he was eighteen now and there was a first time for everything. Pushing all his reservations aside, he entered the pub.

It was a long, narrow space, softly illuminated, with a long mahogany bar running against the right hand wall. There were round tables filled with jovial, noisy patrons, their tables laden with large plates of food and tall glasses of ale. A young barmaid with blonde pigtails worked the bar, and a lone musician with a brown ponytail stood on a crate at its end, singing and playing guitar for the crowd. People stopped to clap along with the frenetic tune as he played:

 _I got a rag-time dog and a rag-time cat_

 _I got a rag-time piano in my rag-time flat_

 _Wear rag-time clothes, from hat to shoes_

 _I read a paper called the Rag-time News_

 _Got rag-time habits and I talk that way_

 _I sleep in rag-time and I rag all day_

 _I got rag-time troubles with my rag-time wife_

 _I'm certainly living the rag-time life..._

Yu approached the bar, shrinking into himself as he cautiously edged his way between two stools occupied by a pair of burly men in shirt sleeves and flat caps. The blonde haired girl smiled at him and said, "Oh, a recruit from the Citadel, I see," her eyes skirting over his cadet uniform. "Well, what can I get you, hon'?"

Yu's eyes scanned the numerous bottles behind her head, but he had no idea what to choose. "Something...not strong?" he said.

The blonde smiled. "Can't say I've ever been asked that before. Usually it's just the opposite." The girl tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. "Are you an alcohol virgin?"

"Uh, yes," Yu admitted.

The girl nodded as if expecting this answer. "Why don't you try a pear cider then? It's a bit on the lighter side. Wouldn't want to break you by starting you off on the hard stuff straight away."

Yu nodded. "Yey, sure. That sounds fine," he agreed, even though he had no idea what the girl was talking about. The crowd clapped sporadically as the musician finished up his song. The young man bowed and called over to the barmaid, "Hey, Mitsu, how about some more of that whisky?" The girl shook her head in disapproval, but then she turned and took a bottle off one of the high shelves and slid it across the bar. The musician caught it as it reached the edge and he pulled out the cork, taking a long swig. He winked at the barmaid and said, "Thanks, Mitsu."

"You know, the more of that you drink, the worse you sound," the girl named Mitsu commented. She walked over and placed a tall curved glass filled with a gold fizzy liquid in front of Yu. "And don't think you're not paying for that! I'm putting it on your tab!" she yelled across the bar.

Yu took a sip of his drink and immediately made a face. Underneath the fruity taste there was a slight, alcoholic burn that he didn't quite like. He took another sip, swishing the cider experimentally around his mouth. He found himself slowly getting used to the tingly aftertaste. He took one sip after another until half the glass was gone. He then waved the barmaid back over. "Can I get an order of pub chips?"

The barmaid winked at him. "Sure, hon', whatever you want."

The man on Yu's right got up and left so Yu slid onto his stool, staring down at the dark whorls in the bar's wooden surface, studying the map of scars that covered it like a pattern of old wounds. He'd been in Charleston for well over a month now and he had spent every free moment he had outside of the Citadel roaming the city proper, covering its streets and parks and boardwalks with eagle eyed purpose, searching for the one thing-the one person-he was so desperate to find. So far he had come up empty handed. The city was certainly beautiful and pleasing to the eye, with its cerulean blue ocean waters and dogwood trees and majestic Georgian houses; it was almost as charming, in fact, as New Orleans. So Yu continued to roam the streets and soak up the city's sights while poking into all of its hidden corners, hoping against hope that he would somehow run into Mika.

The musician started a second song as the barmaid brought over Yu's order of chips. A blistering mountain ballad filled the pub's low lit interior as Yu greedily tucked into his food. Soon his drink was empty and he motioned over at Mitsu for another. The song came to an abrupt halt as the musician called out, "Well, if it isn't the prince of Rainbow Row himself, come to grace us with his presence!" Yu didn't look up as the singer jumped down from the crate and slunk off somewhere behind Yu's back. Yu continued to eat his chips, undisturbed by all the people and noise around him.

* * *

Narumi stopped playing, yelling loudly from across the bar the moment he saw Mika cross the threshold: "Well, if it isn't the prince of Rainbow Row himself, come to grace us with his presence!" Narumi slung his guitar across his back and picked up the bottle of whisky he had sitting on the edge of the counter. He then walked over to Mika and hoisted an arm around his neck, steering him to an empty table in the far corner. "So what brings you out tonight?" he asked, his speech slurring a little as he spoke. Mika could tell he was already three sheets to the wind by the way his arm fell limply across his shoulders. "I like this pub," said Mika. "It's one of the nicer ones around." Narumi nodded enthusiastically, saying, "It's definitely a better place to play in than one of those joints down on Bay Street. I get paid in liquid gold here." He brandished his bottle and took another drink. Mika quirked an eyebrow at him. "You know Mitsu's not going to let you have that for free, right?" he said, smiling.

"Let me work on her with a couple of more songs, then we'll see who's paying who," said Narumi. He crossed one leg over his knee and brought his guitar around, strumming out a few chords. He started singing:

 _There is a house in New Orleans_

 _They call the Rising Sun_

 _And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy_

 _And God I know I'm one-_

"What the hell?" said Narumi, looking perplexed as Mika snatched the guitar from his hands. His eyes were stone cold and his voice icy as he said, enunciating each word clearly, "Don't. Ever. Play. That. Song." Narumi's brows drew together questioningly. "Geez, Mika I know it's a depressing song and all but you don't have to get violent about it." Mika held his guitar out of reach. "Alright, alright. I won't play that one. Consider it banned." Mika reluctantly gave the guitar back.

"Evening boys," said a large older man with a graying ponytail who sat down at their table. Both Narumi and Mika stared blankly at the uninvited stranger, who looked directly at Mika as he continued to speak, "I've seen the two of you down near the battery on quite a few occasions. But, as luck would have it, I've had a nice score this week and actually have some sweet coin on hand to spend tonight."

Narumi rolled his eyes, aware of where this conversation was headed. "You might as well get steppin', pops, 'cause nobody here is selling anything to-"

"-Is that so?" interrupted the long haired man. He continued to gaze at Mika, his wrinkled gray eyes burning into younger blue ones. "That's funny, because I'm pretty sure it weren't daisies you were selling out there in the park."

"I don't work the battery anymore," said Mika flatly. "I've moved well beyond that." He allowed his eyes to dust over the man's frayed top coat and buttonless vest. "And at this point, I'm afraid you're rather below my pay grade."

The mood around the table turned tense as the man reached out and grabbed Mika's wrist. "So you're telling me my money isn't good enough for the likes of you?" the man hissed in a low, threatening voice.

"That's exactly what I'm telling you," said Mika through gritted teeth, his steely gaze unwavering as he glared at the other man. "So you can kindly take your hands off of me."

Narumi said, "Better listen to him, pops, 'cause he ain't playin-"

"-I don't believe I asked you a goddam thing!" the man hissed in Narumi's face, causing him to lean away from the spittle that was flying from his mouth. He turned his attention back to Mika, his grip still tight on his wrist. "So why don't we act all nice and gentle and you and me head out to the back patio and-"

"-you really don't want a piece of me, old man," said Mika in a chilly voice, his demeanor perfectly calm. "But if you want to insist on it…"

Narumi started shaking his head. "Oh, come on, Mika, don't make us get thrown out of this bar, too. I like it here!" he whined.

"Sorry, Narumi, but this guy here wants a piece of me and unfortunately, I think I'm going to have to give it to him." With that declaration, Mika stood up. The older man stood up with him, and he tried to pull Mika around to the other side of the table. Mika gestured back at Narumi with his free hand. Narumi rolled his eyes again. "Man, I liked this bottle of whisky, too." he muttered sulkily before placing the bottle in Mika's open palm.

Mika promptly broke the bottle over the man's head and the whole bar went silent and turned to stare at them.

* * *

Yu peered over his shoulder at the sudden commotion that was happening over at a table in the corner. Apparently some sort of fight had broken out and people were flocking to the other side of the pub, getting up on chairs and yelling angry words of encouragement at the brawlers. Yu's heart started pounding. He turned back to the barmaid. "Does this happen often?" he asked.

Mitsu shook her head, her face gone red with disapproval. "Those two are trouble," she muttered as she stormed around the side of the bar, heading to the opposite end of the room. Yu craned his neck, straining to see what was happening.

* * *

The older long haired man howled in pain, back pedaling into the table behind him and knocking over all of its drinks. "Hey, what are you doing to Stan, you no good cocksucker!" Another man, slightly younger, jumped up from the jostled table and came at Mika, who held him at bay with the broken bottle neck, brandishing it at him threateningly. The older man, still holding his bloodied face in his hands, screamed, "Both of you no good pansies are going to die!" Narumi grabbed onto Mika's arm, yelling, "Oh, shit, I think we need to go now!" The whole place erupted into chaos around them as various people crowded around their small table.

A punch was thrown at Narumi, which he ducked, screaming, "C'mon, let's go!" He pulled Mika by the arm, edging along the wall, trying to get to the pub's entrance. "Get the fuck off me!" yelled Mika, as the younger guy grabbed him by the collar. "Oh, my poor baby, please forgive me," said Narumi before taking his guitar off his back and cracking the guy over the head with it. The neck connected with an ugly _snap!_

Narumi was dragging Mika towards the door when he heard a voice in the crowd call out his name. Mika froze on the spot, which only caused Narumi to pull at him harder.

"Mika!"

 _That voice! Wait! He knew that voice!_ Mika's hands started shaking. His eyes scanned over the crowd in desperation, his heart suddenly pounding. From across the room he caught a fleeting glimpse of a pale face with black hair and a black uniform.

"Yu-chan?" Mika called out as Narumi continued to bodily drag him towards the door. "Mika, we have to go! We're going to end up in the tank if we don't get out of here!" he hissed. Mika had ceased to listen to him. His thoughts were spinning as he was pushed out into the night and herded down the empty street.

* * *

"Mika?" Yu climbed up on his stool, gazing out over the crowd. In the midst of all the fighting was a flash of yellow blond hair and a white profile, moving in and out of the pub's sporadic lighting.

Yu's breath caught in his throat. "Mika?" Yu jumped down from the stool and he made his way over to the fight, trying desperately to squeeze his way through the crowd. He craned his neck, searching for that glowing crown of blond hair, his blood freezing in his veins as he heard a voice he knew well, screaming, "Get the fuck off me!" There was a crashing sound as the musician broke his guitar over another man's head. Through the opening/closing curtain of the crowd, Yu saw the musician pulling Mika- _his Mika_ -along the wall and away from the fight. Yu pushed at the people standing in front of him, calling out over their heads:

"Mika!"

A table overturned and Yu felt himself jostled back in the other direction. Yu looked back at the entrance just in time to see a flash blond going through it.

"Yu-chan!"

The sound of that voice saying his name made his whole frame shake as the fight continued all around him, the violence infecting the remaining patrons like a virus. A bottle whizzed by his head as Yu headed for the door, his blood pounding in his ears. He burst across the threshold and ran panting onto the sidewalk. His head swiveled left and right, but there was only a black void, an empty lane lit with gaslight. It was as if the night itself had swallowed Mika up, snatching him away and causing him to disappear like a hallucination, a brief dream that had come and gone without nary a trace...


	14. Nothing Gold Can Stay

**Author's Note: Warning for heavily implied dub-con in this chapter. Please read at your own discretion.**

Chapter 14:

Nothing Gold Can Stay

The pastel blocks of color denoting the houses of Rainbow Row were as luminous as a field of dew spotted wildflowers in the early morning sun. Caribbean pinks, sunshine yellows, cornflower blues, and oceanic greens assaulted the eye with their wide variety of shades, so vivid and different from the plain brick houses and white clapboard carriage homes of the surrounding streets. Yu paced the cobbled road across the way, unsure of where to begin. Mitsu had been able to tell him that Mika lived 'somewhere on Rainbow Row', but he didn't realize just how many similar Georgian style houses populated that particular area. Looking up and down the street, he could see that there were at least thirteen different rowhouses, laid out all nice and snug like a set of crayons in a box. Seeing the situation, Yu knew he had no choice. He would just have to go up to each and every door and knock, working his way down the lane.

Several of the houses had storefronts on their bottom floors, and with those he simply went into the shop and inquired about the tenant upstairs. Usually the tenant would be the shop owner. Others had wrought iron staircases, which he climbed up and down, making inquiries as he went. No one he had spoken with so far had heard of a Mikaela Hyakuya. Yu was starting to lose hope, thinking Mitsu must have been mistaken, when he walked up to the candy pink facade of the next to last house in the row. He was about to knock on the door, when a pair of voices caught his attention from the last house in the lane, a sky blue colored affair with a garden attached to the side. The voices were coming from behind the garden gate, and Yu felt his breath hitch in his throat when he recognized one of the voices as Mika's. Quietly and cautiously, Yu made his way over to the high gate, pausing outside it to surreptitiously peer over its picketed top.

Yu wasn't sure what kind of scene he'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't this: Mika stood outside on a small brick landing and the musician-the one who was at the pub the night of the fight-stood one step below him. Yu was shocked to see Mika with his hair all mussed and wearing what looked to be a blue silk robe, an outfit that hardly qualified, in Yu's opinion, as being dressed. The musician had his hair up in a ponytail and was wearing pretty much the same white shirt and open blue vest with brass buttons that he saw him in the other night. On his back was a new guitar. The boy was smiling and talking animatedly and Mika was smiling at him and nodding back, and something about the whole exchange set Yu's blood to boiling in a way he previously had never experienced. His felt his face heat up into a blistering shade of red as he listened in on their conversation, which went thusly:

"You didn't have to buy me a new guitar," said the musician.

"No, I really did," answered Mika.

"No you didn't. You already buy me too much stuff anyway."

"Consider it a fee for your body guarding duties from the other night," said Mika, laughing a bit (Yu realized, with some surprise, that he hadn't actually heard Mika laugh since they were both children). "I feel really bad about you breaking the old one," he added.

"Ha, I don't! Because now I have this sweet sounding piece to take with me to the boardwalk! It's beautiful, Mika. I'm really happy."

Yu watched the musician as he reached out to hug Mika, holding onto him, in Yu's opinion, for much longer than necessary. Yu, realizing how unusually and incandescently happy Mika looked in the other boy's embrace, felt his own happiness take a decidedly nasty dive. In that moment, it was as if someone had taken his heart out of his chest, thrown it on the street, and stomped on it. And then kicked it into the ocean. Just for good measure.

The long haired boy bounded down the steps and Yu fled to the end of the lane, turning the corner and pressing his back against the wall. His heart was pounding out an uncomfortable staccato rhythm in his chest and his thoughts were a whirling black sea of poisonous notions and tangled emotions as his listened for the telltale _clack_ of the garden gate being pulled shut and the echoing sound of retreating footsteps. Then he carefully and cautiously made his way back over to the gate, standing frozen in place outside its barrier, until a voice from the other side said:

"I can hear your heavy breathing from the other side of this gate, you know. You might as well come out and quit lurking about."

Yu's eyes widened and he jumped back from the fence as if he'd been burned. With a trembling hand and a face flushed red with an emotion he didn't quite understand, he reached up and plucked open the latch, stepping through the gate and into the back garden. Before Mika could say anything, he found himself saying, practically yelling:

"Just who the hell was that?"

* * *

"Yu-chan?"

Mika stepped back from the gate, his face expressing shock at Yu's sudden and unexpected appearance. He was wearing a dark military uniform with a double row of gold buttons and green epaulets, an outfit he'd seen on the Citadel cadets around town. His face, much leaner and somehow more mature since the last time Mika had seen him, expressed outrage. Before Mika could recover himself enough to speak, Yu ranted on, prompting, "Well? Aren't you going to say anything?"

This was not how Mika had expected their eventual reunion to go. They both stood there, staring at one another, each trembling with two separate and seemingly diametrically opposed emotions, an uncomfortable space of several feet creating an unpassable, physical void between them. Mika allowed his face to go frustratingly blank, the expression he always defaulted to whenever he was feeling defensive. He turned and walked back up the stairs to the landing. "If you're going to yell like that, please come inside the house. I prefer to keep a low profile around here," he said evenly.

He heard rather than saw Yu's footsteps as he followed him up the stairs and into the house. Once inside, Mika turned to study him as he led him through various rooms. Yu was looking at all the things in his house, his head swinging back and forth like a pendulum as they walked through Mika's small kitchen, past its attached breakfast nook, and into a spacious sitting room with a trio of arched floor to ceiling windows. Mika dropped down onto a high back settee covered in gold damask. "So that was you I saw at the Blind Tiger last night," he commented.

Yu stood, fidgeting slightly, staring at everything but Mika. "Yey, that was me. I tried to catch you before you left, but things were a little...chaotic." Mika watched Yu intently as he prowled about the room, stopping to touch this or that object, his body language emanating a tension Mika couldn't comprehend. Yu finally swivelled back towards Mika, his eyes raking him up and down as Mika lounged insouciantly with his back against the settee and his feet up on the couch. Yu's eyes slid back to the floor. "So...the guy at the back gate...the same one from the pub...who is he?"

"Who, Narumi? He's a friend, Yu," was all Mika said.

"Just a friend?" prodded Yu. "You two looked...awfully chummy back there."

The corner of Mika's mouth lifted slightly. "We're just friends," Mika repeated. "In fact, we used to be flatmates. Why, are you jealous?"

Instead of answering him, Yu began pacing around again. He looked at the floor as he spoke. "You know, I spent months wandering around, unsure if you were even still alive. Most of New Orleans thinks you died with Bathory in that fire-well, everyone except for Krul. But here you are, lounging around inside this house like a king, living it up. Did you even once stop to think of me?"

Mika's head jerked back as if he'd been slapped. "Yu, I never stopped thinking about you! You were all I thought about! I never-"

"-but where were you, Mika? Not with me! Not where I needed you! Do you know how much I struggled after...after…" Yu's eyes were shining as he stopped to look at Mika. "After everything that happened to me?"

Mika's own eyes started filling with tears. "I'm sorry, Yu-chan. I really am. But I couldn't stay. Not after what I did." Mika clenched his jaw and added: "And it's not like I've been 'living it up' as you like to call it. It wasn't always like this. The first couple of months here were really hard. You don't want to know just how hard-"

Yu's head shot up at this. "Don't I? Why don't you tell me?"

Mika shook his head, his eyes becoming guarded as he spoke. "It's not something suitable for polite conversation…"

"Oh." Yu turned, glancing back around the room. He had his back to Mika as he said, "I see now. You didn't...you didn't buy this house yourself, did you?"

"No." Mika was gripping the back of the settee so hard his knuckles went white.

"Some man...a client...bought it for you?"

"Yes."

Mika watched as Yu raked his hands through his hair in frustration. "Why, Mika? Why? You don't live in the quarter anymore, so why-"

"-because I had no other way! I hit rock bottom after I...after I killed Ferid and I couldn't see any other way back-"

"-Just stop! Stop doing this-"

"-you know, sometimes it feels like I died five years ago," Mika said softly, his mouth trembling slightly as he spoke. "And all that's left inside me is this flat, unemotional monster who's wandering around in my skin. Now I can add cold blooded murder to the list of horrible things I've done," The icy blue of Mika's eyes matched the chill in his voice as he continued, "I'm sorry, Yu-chan. I'm sorry you had to see me like this. I was going to come back for you. I was. After all this was over, and I was in the clear financially, and I wasn't beholden to anybody. But you showing up like this threw a wrench in my plans." Mika closed his eyes and he rubbed his temples. "It's not like I want to rely on some other man to keep me-"

"-you mean someone like Kureto Hiragi?"

Mika's eyes snapped open. "What does Kureto Hiragi have to do with this?" he asked, perplexed.

The look of outrage was back on Yu's face. He slowly stalked towards Mika, standing over him in an almost menacing manner. "I can't believe you slept with Kureto Hiragi. He's the coldest, most asinine, arrogant man I've ever-"

"-you're saying it like I had a choice, Yu!" Mika fired back. "I didn't choose Kureto Hiragi. He chose me. And with the same amount of discernment he would choose a bottle off the wine list or an appetizer off a restaurant menu. It was that banal and that meaningless to him. So don't say it like it was some kind of attractive option-"

"-and what about the man who bought you this house?"

"-what about him? My name is on the bill of sale, and that's all that matters. That's all I wanted."

"-is it? Is that really all you wanted?"

"God, yes, Yu! What's the matter with you? Why are you grilling me like this-"

His words were stolen away with a kiss, but not the kind of kiss he'd received from Yu before, not like the one they had both shared down by the river. This was something angry and desperate, an act of overflowing emotion undercut with subtle notes of frustration. But because it was Yu, Mika kissed him back, reaching up to pull him even further into his embrace. Mika was only slightly surprised when Yu grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands to his sides, not allowing him to touch him. The moment Yu broke off the kiss, Mika stared into his eyes and said his name as a question. Instead of answering, Yu kissed him again, digging his hand through the back of his hair and holding him in place with his grip. He climbed onto the settee with Mika, pushing him back into a corner, smothering him with his weight. Mika's mind whispered that something was off, that things were going wrong, wrong, wrong, but he couldn't help himself. He could never help himself with Yu, could never deny him anything he wanted, so Mika allowed himself to be pushed and pulled, plied and puppeted, all without complaint.

Even when Yu wedged his knee in between Mika's legs, Mika did nothing, said nothing. His body responded automatically, independent from his mind, all distant mental warnings ignored in favor of pure animal sensation. Even in the midst of all the angry, bruising kisses and punishing nips and bites, there was an undeniable fire, a sense of rightness about it. It seemed such a paradox: it was both wrong yet absolutely right, all at the same time, a counterintuitive notion that left Mika's head spinning. Mika could feel the desperation, the pain, emanating off of Yu in waves. It was a pain he wanted to assuage, to take from him. He wanted to give him whatever solace he could, to be his haven from everything that had ever hurt him.

It seemed like such a small sacrifice to make. To the altar of his own guilt.

"Yu-chan, look at me." Once again Mika lifted his hands to touch Yu and once again he was rebuffed. Yu's face was buried in the crook of his neck as they lay awkwardly against one another, with Yu clutching his wrists and breathing heavily into his shoulder. Mika closed his eyes as Yu suddenly released him so his hands could wander, unopposed, beneath the silky confines of his robe. Mika sucked in a breath as Yu touched him, caressing him intimately, experimentally, testing the boundaries of how far he could go. Mika didn't resist any of it. Not when Yu raked his robe over his thighs, not when he pried his legs apart.

Mika tilted his head back against the arm of the settee as Yu pulled open his robe, kissing and biting his way down his chest, his hands exploring between his legs, saying nothing. His mind occupied a different sphere from his body, a body which betrayed him with its encouraging responses, its erratic signals. Mika gasped, his eyes falling half mast as Yu pushed one of his knees up and back. Not once did Yu look him in the face as he did this. Not once did he speak his name or ask his permission. He worked on Mika, his mouth worrying at his skin, a creature gone mindless with single minded purpose. Mika choked out a pained whimper as Yu finally pushed his way into him, thrusting up into him almost violently, the two of them locked in the steps of a dance that wasn't quite an outright violation, but had all the language and ornaments of rape attached to it.

Mika gritted his teeth, hissing out a tremulous moan as Yu pounded into him, the pace bruising and brutal. He'd gone in nearly dry, ignorant in his inexperience, and Mika felt almost no pleasure in the act, struggling only to maintain his composure in the face of Yu's overwhelming need. Yu buried his face against Mika's neck, sobbing out a choked cry as he shuddered with the force of his climax. Mika lay as still as stone beneath him, his head bent awkwardly over the arm of the couch, folded up like a piece of origami. After some moments passed without any kind of response, Mika finally said, "Yu-chan?"

* * *

He couldn't believe what had just happened. He couldn't believe how out of control he had been. How utterly unlike himself. Mika's words reverberated like a warning through his head: _All that's left of me is this flat, unemotional monster who's wandering around in my skin._ Was he so completely altered by all the things that had happened to him that he was doomed to become some unthinking and uncaring animal, one far too wrapped up in his own pain to see anyone else's hurt? Were the two of them simply too damaged beyond all hope or reason?

The temporary release he'd felt during sex quickly ebbed away and all that was left in its wake was a sense of guilt and overwhelming shame. Everything he had kept bottled up over the past few months had come bubbling out, pushing him to act with the force of a flash flood. He had not meant for it to happen. It had not been a conscious decision. A volatile cocktail of wayward emotions-jealousy, guilt, abandonment, desire-had all caught fire and run wild, sending everything up in flames.

"Yu-chan?"

Mika was whispering his name. Yu pulled away from him, sitting up and straightening his uniform without looking at him. He felt Mika's hands tugging at his arms. "Yu, look at me." The desperate tremor in his voice was like the final nail in the coffin of guilt that Yu had chosen to bury himself in. Without speaking, he got up and left, wandering back through the house like a ghost, a former specter of himself. He went through the kitchen, down the landing, and out the garden gate, utterly convinced that his cold and decidedly indefensible actions had just destroyed the most precious and most important thing in his life.


	15. The Hardest Hue to Hold

Chapter 15:

The Hardest Hue to Hold

The sky overhead grew dark and menacing with swarms of angry clouds-all black and threatening and heavily pregnant with rain-clustering together to crowd out the sun. Whistles blew and orders were shouted across the campus of the Citadel as various sets of classes went through their morning drills, oblivious to the sudden change in weather. Yu walked over a stone pathway, cutting through rows of eager young soldiers in matching uniforms, his head bowed against the brisk gusts of air that were swirling through all the fallen leaves as he hurried across the training yard. He had just made it to the Citadel's large front gate and was slipping through it when a hand suddenly grabbed his collar from out of nowhere, pulling him off to the side.

"What the hell?" Yu spat automatically. He wheeled around and found himself face to face with the musician named Narumi, his eyes appraising Yu with a decidedly unfriendly gaze. He released Yu's collar and started stabbing a finger into his chest. "You! You've got some explaining to do, pal. And I mean ASAP."

Yu looked mortified. Surely Mika hadn't confided in this guy about what had happened yesterday? The blond certainly wasn't one for sharing, not like that, not with anybody. Other than the one time he'd been high on laudanum, Mika had always played things close to the chest. He always kept his private burdens to himself. When Yu remained staunchly silent, Narumi started badgering him again:

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" answered Yu through clenched teeth. But of course he knew. _I practically raped my best friend on a couch in his own house yesterday and now this guy is here to beat me to a pulp for it,_ Yu thought. He didn't resist when Narumi grabbed his arm and started jabbing a finger between his eyes. "I don't know what you've done, Mr. Something-I-Left-Behind, but you've put Mika in some kind of bad state, and I expect you to fix it."

"What?" Yu asked dumbly, his mind only registering the fact that Narumi didn't actually know anything about yesterday's situation. Yu mentally breathed a sigh of relief at this.

"Mika is the most unflappable person I know," continued Narumi. "Even in the ugliest of circumstances-and there have been some ugly ones-he doesn't crack. Ever. But today I go over there and he has this look on his face like someone has just murdered his puppy. Then he mentioned you, and I thought-ah, there's the problem, right there! Now, I don't know what it is you did or said to make him feel this way, but I expect you to go over there and fix it. Right now."

Yu yanked his arm from Narumi's grip. His eyebrows drew together and he said, "Why are you doing this? Why do you care whether or not things are made right between us?"

Narumi's head jerked back. The vein at his temple was twitching as he spoke, "Because he's my friend, that's why. And I've seen him at his lowest-and I mean, covered all in blood and nearly dead on the boardwalk lowest-and this is somehow worse. At least for him it is, though I can't imagine why he would want to waste his time on a spoiled little brat like you."

Yu's eyes went wide with anger. He opened his mouth, a whole host of denials ready to fall from his lips, when he suddenly stopped and stared closely at the musician with narrowed eyes. Then he said simply, without inflection:

"You're in love with him."

Now it was Narumi's turn to look mortified. That one simple, revealing look was all it took, and Yu pressed on with his accusation, shaking his head, "You are. You really, really are."

"Shut up," said Narumi with a clenched jaw. "This isn't about me. This is about you." Narumi's eyes dropped to the ground and he muttered, almost too low for Yu to hear. "I'm not the man to scale that particular wall. That's something I found out the hard way." He then looked up at Yu, his voice rising in volume, "But you are the man to do it. So you better strap on your hiking boots and get to climbing, because you've got a lot of work to do-"

Yu's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do you mean, you found out the hard way-"

"-what? Now what are you on about? Are you not listening to what I'm trying to tell you-"

"You said you found out the hard way that you weren't the man for that particular job," said Yu, paraphrasing his words. "What did you mean by that?" he asked in a low, dangerous voice. When Narumi didn't answer him, Yu raked his hands through his hair, laughing bitterly to himself as he concluded, "Oh...you've slept with him."

Narumi grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the gate and any prying ears that might be listening. "Listen to me," Narumi said in a low hiss. "I don't know what Mika has told you but what happened between us was a one time mistake that I wish to God had never happened-"

Yu was shaking his head, stunned. "I can't believe him. He lied to my face yesterday when he told me you guys were 'just friends.' God, I'm a fucking idiot-"

"-you are a fucking idiot if you're going to let one little mistake ruin it for the two of you!" Narumi practically yelled. Then he lowered his voice, saying, "It was my fault. Don't blame him. I pushed for it. I-" Narumi looked away, his eyes shining with emotion. "When the old man bought him that house out on Rainbow Row and he announced that he was moving out, I realized something. I realized that I didn't want him to go. So I begged him to stay. Like an idiot, I didn't realize how happy I'd been over the last few months we'd been living together. It just sort of hit me, at that very moment, that maybe I didn't want to live in that stupid little flat without him. And I thought to myself-hey, why not take a gamble, take a risk? Just lean across the table and kiss him and see what happens next? Just see where the chips fall, right? I thought, maybe everything in my world will come together exactly the way I want it to, or maybe it will all just fall to pieces. Guess which one happened?" Narumi's voice turned sour on this last sentence. He bowed his head, and after a moment, he added:

"So the next morning I wake up to a carpet bag packed by the front door and an 'I'm sorry, Narumi' and off he goes," Narumi barked out a mirthless laugh. "See, he didn't love me. I knew it, but I didn't...well, I was a first class idiot. Sucker punched by love. I knew he waiting on someone else-namely, you-but I had to try my hand at it anyway. Fool that I was."

The two boys just stood there awkwardly together after this speech. Narumi, after a few uncomfortable moments, broke the silence: "Like I said, there's a near impregnable wall of ice around him. And I'm not the man to scale that wall-you are. So don't mess it up. Not when he's been working so hard through so many levels of hell just to get back to you." With that final declaration, Narumi turned on his heel and left, leaving Yu alone in the middle of the sidewalk.

After watching Narumi's retreating back in stunned silence for several seconds, Yu finally turned and went in the opposite direction, heading out towards the Battery and Rainbow Row.

* * *

The rain was coming down in torrents by the time Yu reached Church street, with an unforgiving January wind whipping the water into sideways sheets of stinging ice. Yu sprinted through an alley over to East Bay Street, jogging from one shop and cafe awning to another, avoiding the rain as best he could. His efforts didn't seem to matter though, because he was soaked through by the time he got to Broad Street, his hair plastered down on his head like a black swim cap, his whole body shaking with wet and cold. The sky growled a low rumble of ominous thunder as he finally rounded the row, running past various shades of pink and teal and yellow and green. Shaking like a wet dog in his drenched uniform, he came to the last blue house in the lane, passing through the garden gate on its left hand side. He walked up the stairs to the landing and banged on the kitchen door.

He stood there with his teeth chattering, waiting for admittance. Finally the door opened and Mika stood there, a cold, questioning look on his face. This time Yu didn't hesitate. He did what he should have done yesterday, what he should have done the very moment he had first walked through that gate: He threw both arms around Mika, holding onto him tightly, a desperate sob scraping its way out of his throat. Then he said, his voice cracking:

"I'm sorry! Please forgive me…"

Yu clung to him, sobbing uncontrollably. He would have collapsed to the ground if not for Mika's grip on him. Finally Mika said softly by his ear. "Why, Yu-chan? Why-when there's nothing to forgive?"

This only made Yu cry harder. "How can you say that, Mika? After the way I treated you yesterday?" he choked out. Mika only held onto him tighter in response, saying:

"You didn't do anything that I didn't allow you to do, Yu. You were obviously hurting and I wanted...I wanted so much to take that away from you, if only for a few moments. You know-you _must_ know-that whatever I have, it's yours. Everything. All of it. Always."

Yu finally lifted his tear stained face from Mika's shoulder. "You've always been so self sacrificing, Mika. I don't understand it. I don't understand why you've always been so kind to me."

"Yes, you do," insisted Mika, smiling slightly. "Now come inside. The rain has you soaked through. Let's go get you dried off."

"I can't believe you'd invite me back in here," Yu sniffed.

Mika smiled serenely, pulling Yu by both hands through the kitchen and towards the bathroom. "I told you-everything I have is yours. Always has, always will be."

"I don't think I would have worked up the nerve to show up here today, if it hadn't been for what Narumi said-"

"-what did Narumi say?" Mika steered Yu in the direction of a large claw foot tub, pushing him down by his shoulders until he sat perched on the edge of it. He grabbed a towel off the rack and started drying Yu's unruly hair, patting him down like a wet animal.

Yu stared listlessly at the tiled wall as Mika worked on his hair. "Narumi said I needed to fix things with you. That you had been waiting for me, all this time-"

"-he's right. I have been waiting, trying to get my shit together before I saw you again. Trying to get my life back in order. But as usual, you had to come barging in here with all the subtlety of a hurricane-"

Yu looked up at Mika, his green eyes still shining with the sheen of unshed tears. "Why did you sleep with him? If it wasn't for money, and if you didn't love him-"

Mika's hands ceased drying Yu's hair. He was rigid when he spoke, "Narumi shouldn't have told you that-"

"-but why, Mika? Your actions are such a mystery to me sometimes; I'm struggling to understand them-"

"-because I'm a horrible person, that's why, Yu! Don't you remember me telling you that? And I had a moment of...of weakness. I'm not proud of it. I took advantage of a friend and it almost cost me that friendship-"

"-you took advantage of him? That's not how he framed it-"

"-of course not. He thinks because he made the first move it was all on him. But I don't see it that way. God, you should have seen the look on his face the morning after, when I took my bags and walked out the door. That look still haunts me to this very day. I should've never done that to a friend, ever. But I'm a selfish, manipulative person when things are all said and done, and I took advantage of the situation. He loved me and I didn't love him but I still had sex with him anyway; I lead him on. And you want to know why? Because I was lonely and I was far away from home and I was thinking to myself, surely Yu has moved on with someone else by now-" Mika broke off, shaking his head. "Listen to me, making up excuses for my terrible behavior."

"Is it any more terrible than my behavior yesterday?" Yu asked gently.

"Tch. We weren't talking about your bad behavior; we were talking about mine. And if you want me to go through all of it, then I might as well put on the kettle, because it's going to be a long night."

Yu smiled slightly to himself. "Does that mean I'm staying for dinner then?"

"Lunch, dinner, breakfast. All of the above." Mika threw the towel into a nearby hamper, staring at Yu intently. "Just...stay."

"Even though we're both damaged, awful people?"

"Yes. Because we're a matched set. Two halves of the same broken whole." Mika bent down and kissed the top of Yu's head. After breathing in the scent of his rain drenched hair, he whispered by his ear:

"Welcome home, Yu."


	16. Going over Jordan, Going over Home

**Author's Note: Before we begin, I'm going to confess to all the anachronisms I put into this fic. I love history and I tried to be as accurate as possible, but a few things I fudged on purpose. First, the Garden Book Shop wasn't around then; I put it in because I was too lazy to come up with a historically relevant place out in the district for them to meet. Second, Rainbow Row didn't get its colors until the 1920's, but I love the way it looks as it exists now, so what's a couple of decades between friends, eh? Thirdly, I couldn't help myself when it came to inserting the song "House of the Rising Sun," even though that was the 60's version. I just couldn't resist. :)**

 **2nd Author's note: Happy Valentine's Day! This chapter is like a dessert parfait, with a bunch of fluff on top, some really heavy smut in the middle and just a dollop of fluff at the end. Why? Because we all deserve nice things sometimes, that's why…:)**

Epilogue:

Going over Jordan, Going over Home

 _1 year later..._

The air was filled with the sound of musical instruments and cheering and gales of screaming laughter. The crowds gathered at the roadside, watching as several brass bands marched by in matching pinstripe suits, straw hats with colorful bandeaus tilted at impossible angles on their heads. Floats made up to look like fantastical creatures drifted by, pulled by teams of horses: Chinese dragons and sharks and giant Trojan horses. Glittery masks of green, gold, and purple were worn by all, with the anonymity they conferred pushing decent folks to blatant acts of amorous boldness out on the street. Fireworks burst overhead, whistling out a long tune as they fell like shooting stars across the sky. Streamers decorated balconies and beads lay like kudzu over the hand rails. Mardi Gras was in full swing, and folks from near and far had come to see and take part in the yearly spectacle.

Yu cursed as he made his way down Decatur, his arms filled with a Cafe du Monde bag, ducking and swerving through the crowd. He had forgotten about Mardi Gras, and had gotten caught in the thick of it while out completing his errand. His progress was slow as he moved from Decatur to Esplanade Avenue, running across the street only to nearly miss being trampled by a pair of horses in velvet harnesses. Behind him trombones screeched like angry owls and ladies in feathered masks sang, their soulful soprano song following him all the way down the avenue.

Yu ran through a full military escort in liveried battalion dress, crossing to the other side of Esplanade and into the Faubourg Marigny. He slid under the arms of couples embracing on the street, ducking down and around them until he veered off into a tiny side alley. There he stopped before a small shotgun house with four narrow columns and climbed up to its porch. The sound of fireworks and music and shouts faded off into the distance as he entered the front door.

"Oi, Mika! I'm back!"

The sound of a hammer banged once, twice, then stopped. Yu walked into a small living room to find Mika standing on top of an overstuffed chair, nailing a curtain rod up above the window. He was in rolled shirtsleeves and a pair of pinstripe pants with forgotten suspenders hanging off them. He turned around at Yu's entrance, taking a pair of nails out of his mouth. "Where have you been all morning?" he asked, jumping down from the chair.

"I went to the Cafe du Monde to get your favorite-powdered sugar beignets. But I forgot it was Mardi Gras and the streets are kind of a nightmare right now. Damn near impassable. We got couples in cat masks practically making out on our doorstep," Yu complained, taking out a beignet and biting into it.

Mika walked over to him and reached into the bag. He pulled out a pastry and lifted an eyebrow. "There's just one and a half left?"

Yu stood there looking sheepish. "Um, yey, they sorta...uh...cannibalized themselves on the way here."

Mika's eyebrow shot up again. "You're saying the beignets ate each other on their way over here? You do know what the word cannibalize means, right?" He reached out a finger, swiping it across Yu's nose. "You got powdered sugar on your face, by the way."

Yu grinned, ducking his head. "Busted," he muttered under his breath. He threw himself down in the chair that Mika had been standing on, licking powdered sugar off his fingers. "So what have you been doing this morning?"

"Nailing up curtain rods," said Mika, gesturing with the hammer. Yu looked above the window, staring blankly, as if he had never considered the possibility of needing curtains before. "And when I'm done here," continued Mika, "then I'm going to go over to the other two houses and do some more remodeling there. We need to prep for tenants and fast. I was going to go to the paper today and place an advertisement, but that can wait until after this damn parade is over."

Yu turned his head, staring up again. "Do we _need_ curtains?" he asked, perplexed.

Mika patted his head affectionately. "Do we need curtains, he asks," said Mika, smiling.

"What?" said Yu defensively. "I've never had to think about such things before," he groused.

"And you don't think about them now," pointed out Mika, leaning over to kiss the top of his head affectionately. "Because you're too busy being the pretty one." Mika started to walk away, but Yu reached out and caught his hand, pulling him back.

"You know, this parade has got me thinking. Why don't we go out with the rest of the revelers tonight?"

Mika looked doubtful. "I don't know, Yu. We've only been back in town for a couple of weeks. I don't know if I want to tempt fate by promenading publicly around the quarter just yet."

"You're being too paranoid, Mika. It's been almost two years since the whole Bathory thing happened. People have moved on to bigger and more recent scandals. That's the way New Orleans works. And haven't you heard? The government is going to dismantle Storyville-"

"-oh, I've heard, alright. I saw it written in the Times-"

"-so forget about all that stuff! Let's go out! Just for tonight!" Yu begged. "It'll be fun! And hey, guess what?" And here Yu pulled a gold sequined harlequin mask from inside his jacket, placing it teasingly over his eyes.

"We'll both be completely anonymous…"

* * *

Gas lamps ringed with angel halos lit the cobbled walkways filled with late night party goers. Mardi Gras didn't stop with the sinking sun, a fact made apparent by all the rag-time bands, buskers, and lavishly costumed revelers seen out on the streets of the quarter late that evening. Sunflowers made of pure light bloomed and blossomed and disintegrated over the dark reflective waters of the Mississippi as elaborate firework displays were set alight. Street magicians performed tricks in Jackson Square and bars did a brisk business, as people were allowed to carry their booze right out in the open. People yelled at one another and laughed and danced and screamed out in perpetual delight. Under the rising red moon, Mardis Gras reached its fever pitch, with the usually restrained populace running wild in the streets.

Yu and Mika navigated the crowds, both of them dressed in matching black coats and sequined harlequin masks, the only thing marking their difference from a distance being the color of their hair. Yu was bouncing around like an excited puppy; in one hand he carried a ream of blue cotton candy, with the other he held onto Mika, pulling him by the hand over to this or that attraction in the square. He stopped to watch a pair of jugglers, his eyes going wide behind his mask as they added swords and knives and hatchets and a whole host of other dangerous objects to the mix. People clapped louder and whistled encouragement with each new deadly addition. Once he got bored with that, Yu pulled Mika across the street, headed for the always open doors of the Cafe du Monde. From beneath his mask, Mika said, "You can't possible be hungry again. How much sugar have you had today, anyway?"

Yu grinned, his green eyes shining like those of a cat behind the slanted, contoured eyes of his Mardis Gras mask. "Wasn't stopping there," said Yu, dancing ahead on the leash of Mika's arm. They wove in and out between other couples on the street, many of them locked in heated embraces. Yu led Mika along a path behind the cafe, passing by the now closed French Market. Budding dandelion puffs of red and green and gold cracked and shimmered above the river, growing bigger in size as they moved closer to the water. A large riverboat drifted lazily by, its rows of lamps marking its slow progress across the dark Mississippi.

"You know, if we can get some renters into those two houses within the next six weeks, I think we'll be okay."

"Of course we'll be okay. Why wouldn't we be?"

"Finances, Yu. I know numbers aren't your strong suit, but-"

"-Tch. Like you've run property before?"

"-I've been doing Krul's books since I was fifteen. She had dozens of holdings out in the quarter; I think I can handle two tiny shotgun houses-"

"-three, if you count ours-"

"Three, whatever. I'm just saying, I think I can make this work-"

"-can you please stop talking about your 'business plan' Mr. Portfolio? We're supposed to be out having fun here-"

"-I know. I'm sorry. I'll stop." Then Mika added under his breath: "But I really do like numbers."

Yu led Mika away from the hazy light of the gas lamps, down by the water to a jagged stone wall near the shore. He stopped just behind the wall, pulling off his mask. "Ta-da!" he said, gesturing with gold sequins. "Remember this place?"

"Of course, I remember it."

"This was where we had our first kiss-"

"-Eighteen months, two weeks, and three days ago. See? I told you I was good with numbers-"

"-so what else are you good at?" Yu asked teasingly, leaning back against the bricks. In response, Mika reached out and kissed him, sliding his arms around him and running a hand up his back, his fingers catching and trapping the loose strands of hair at the nape of his neck. He tugged on Yu's hair, angling his head back for better access as the kiss deepened. Yu sighed contentedly, happily accepting Mika's tongue into his mouth, moaning slightly into the kiss. Yu reached up and plucked Mika's mask away as the light from the fireworks display danced over their faces, painting them in brilliant shades of gold, green, and red. Yu swayed on the balls of his feet, his eyes still blissfully closed, as Mika suddenly ended the kiss. "How was that?" Mika asked in a low tantalizing voice by his ear.

Yu's response was instantaneous: "More!"

Yu reached out and grabbed Mika, pulling him to him, kissing him as if his life depended on it. Mika pushed Yu flat against the stone wall, pressing his body against his, both of their movements growing more clumsy and desperate as the inevitable sparks of lust caught and ignited between them, driving them closer and closer together. Mika raked Yu's coat off his shoulders and down his arms; the garment fell in an unwanted puddle around Yu's feet. He pulled at Yu's high collar, his lips and tongue seeking the flesh of his neck, pulling and flailing at buttons that impeded his progress. Yu gasped as Mika sucked roughly at his collarbone. "Are we-are we really doing this right here-"

"-it's Mardis Gras, isn't it?"

Yu shrugged. It seemed as good an excuse as any. Mika kissed his way down the front of Yu's chest, dropping to his knees and fiddling with his belt. Yu tilted his head back, staring at the moon above, watching as whistling streamers of light criss-crossed the darkened sky. "God, it's so beautiful tonight...Ngh…" Yu's head thumped back against the bricks as he felt Mika take him into his mouth, tasting and teasing him all along his length. He breathed heavily, his hips rocking slightly as he sought to bury himself into that welcoming heat, losing himself to pure sensation. Yu's curling fingers raked at the bricks as he let Mika build up his own rhythm, watching that blond hair go from gold to green to purple. He gasped aloud, bucking forward, as Mika unexpectedly slid a pair of damp fingers between his legs, burying them deep inside of him. Electricity danced along his nerves and he felt himself being turned inside out, the twin stimulations overriding all his senses. Yu threw his head back and moaned out loud, heedless to whoever might be in the vicinity. His legs quaked threateningly as Mika pushed up into his prostrate, the contact wrenching a strangled cry from his mouth. His back slid against the bricks, gravity pulling him earthward. "Mika, I can't-" he mewled.

Before Yu could completely slump to the ground, Mika ceased what he was doing, standing up and pulling Yu with him. He shucked Yu's pants down his legs, and Yu trembled, his pupils blown black as the midnight sky as he anticipated what was coming next. He only managed to get one pants leg off before Mika's arms were back around him, his quickening breath coming in pants as he stared into Yu's eyes. "Ready?" Mika asked in a gravelly voice. Yu nodded dumbly as Mika lifted him, positioning him against the wall. Yu wrapped his legs clumsily around him and from there gravity did its job and suddenly it was in. No gentle, teasing entrance for him: it was simply in and Yu's back was scraping against the bricks as Mika pounded into him, his arms clinging to him, a choked cry spilling out of his throat. Someone was probably going to hear them and they were probably going to be discovered, but they were both too caught up in the blistering heat of pleasure to care. There was only this: the violent, entrancing rhythm, the surge of lustful feelings, the desperate and all consuming need for release. Yu rode Mika's cock, his back and ass hitting the wall with every thrust, but he didn't care. He was in that special place where pleasure and pain came together to create the perfect, most intoxicating blend of erotic sensation and he simply didn't care. He wanted one thing and one thing only: to be fucked, and to be fucked _hard_.

"Ngh..it's too much…" Yu shivered, his eyes stained moist as he felt his orgasm building, his every nerve singing out a song of overwhelming pleasure that was straining, cresting, simmering. He felt drunk, high on lust, as Mika slid his tongue back into his mouth. Yu sucked at his lips with mindless abandon as he felt his pleasure coming to a high peak, turning into a cresting wave, becoming a high cliff over which he was poised to fall. Suddenly, he saw clouds of starlight burst overhead and the sky fizzled into an incandescent whiteness, and Yu was crying out, moaning in the night, all sense of time and place gone as he rode out wave after shockwave of blissful, heady release. The night sky overhead shimmied and shook with color, and Yu felt his legs finally give, felt himself falling to earth, only to have Mika catch him. "Whoa, there! Steady on," he said into Yu's hair. Yu's ears were buzzing as he smiled, laughing slightly. "You really are better at more things than just numbers," Yu said dizzily. Mika only smiled at him, kissing his forehead as he attempted to get Yu back into his clothes. Yu's limbs had turned to jelly and he was of absolutely no help in this. He laughed again, reaching out to touch Mika's face.

"God, I love you!"

"I love you, too, Yu-chan."

"Let's go home to that silly, curtainless house of ours. I think I need a sequel to this."

"Whatever you want, Yu. Whatever you want..."

"You," said Yu, closing his eyes and pressing their foreheads together. "I want you!"

"You got me, love. I'm yours. I've always been yours. Always."

"Forever and always?"

"Forever and always," Mika repeated as gigantic flowers of light bloomed way up in the sky, dancing and shimmying over the night's canvas before slowly falling to earth. Music echoed from the streets and people laughed in the distance and tankers floated listlessly by. A cool February breeze whipped up, stirring the hair on their necks as the two boys made their way back across Decatur Street. Back to the place they called home...

 **End/Fin.**

 **Final Author's Note: I had a lot of experimental stuff going on in this fic., and would dearly love to get some feedback on it. So please leave a review and let me know what worked and what didn't, what soared and what fell flat, etc. I know I missed the mark somewhere (particularly at the end) and I am eager to improve, and the only way I can do that is through honest, constructive feedback. So please r &r! **

**Much thanks,**

 **The Kindly One**


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